Life Goes On
by Wickedly Caskett
Summary: Big secrets come out eventually, as is their nature. When Castle and Beckett find themselves faced with the consequences of such a secret, where do they go from there? Slight AU. Discontinued.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys~

I just want to start this off by saying I'm super sorry to everyone who was following "The Right Road". I just started writing it, everything was going great... and then bam. Blank. I'm still suffering with writer's block with that one, and as soon as I can I'll update that. Promise.

This thing sort of appeared out of nowhere after "A Dance with Death", that promo, and what we know about the upcoming episodes. Major spoilers! Warning! Major spoilers! Do not read this if you don't want to know anything about "47 Seconds" or about what we've heard the next episodes will include. But anyway. Please enjoy.

Disclaimer: I'm a sick and tired high schooler. This is probably not what's gonna happen, but in my happy little mind this is what happens. Castle belongs to the fabulous Marlowe and Co, who I'm sure will destroy our minds come the next few episodes.

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><p>She should've known better than to let him shadow that pathetic excuse of a detective.<p>

She should've known that it could only end badly with that guy. With a name like Slaughter and a reputation for turning spies and witnesses into casualties once he had the information he needed? Yes. She should've known better.

But she hadn't. She hadn't stopped him from following that man on that cursed case. She probably wouldn't have been able to stop him anyway, with all they'd gone through lately. With the bomb- both the actual bomb in the case last month and the emotional bomb she didn't realize she dropped until it was too late, she'd realized that time… it has a funny way of disappearing. Moments in time- a bomb placed, a shot fired, words spoken, a thought not thought… they can be crucial to how life plays out.

The actual bomb itself was the first blow of that case. The sheer devastation and terror of it all was overwhelming, and the vision of the blackened bomb site, the feds, and the innumerable injured and bleeding people… No, that would never leave her. But what struck closest to home was that one of the victims had been in a "complicated" relationship with someone just a few feet away from being blown to bits as well. The relationship proved very familiar. The person now left alone had actually been wishing he'd been blown up too when they spoke to him. He said the regrets hung unbearably heavy, too heavy for him to possibly bear on his heart and survive. Regret that they hadn't said how they felt. Regret that they never got to live the future they so often joked about. Regret that they hadn't just taken the leap, taken the jump. Regret that they hadn't enjoyed the fragile time they had together. By the time they got to that fateful interrogation day that changed it all, his interview burned at her mind. What if that had been them? It was viable to happen any day, really. Just made you think, you know? About the things you didn't want to put off anymore, as she'd said to him on the first day of the case.

She drew a shuddering breath as the memory of that day of fallout bloomed into her mind. She had been interrogating the man they had caught on camera placing the bomb at the time, and he had been making these seemingly ridiculous (at the time, this was before they discovered the drugs he'd been dosed with,) claims that he didn't remember a thing about the bomb and why he placed it. Castle wasn't at the precinct yet and she was on the hunt. Impervious to distraction as she had been trained…

_"So why don't you just tell me," she said, leaning over the table at Robert Lopez, their bomber, "Why did you plant that bomb? _

_ "I… I don't know," he said after staring blankly at her for a moment._

_ "Do you want me to refresh your memory?" she said, placing the security camera image they had of him placing the backpack on the ground and circling around the table, "You were standing here by the lamppost, and you dropped the backpack, and then you started running as it exploded and killed _five people_."_

_ "I didn't do what you sai-" he said, voice level._

_ "Witnesses saw you drop the backpack, Bobby," she retorted. How stupid did he think she was?_

_ "It wasn't mine!" he retorted._

_ "So you admit to having it," she said. Oh she was going to get this guy, and she was going to get him bad. There was no way he was going to get out of this trap. _

_ "No, that's-that's not what I meant," he said. _

_ She interrupted him, "You just said that it wasn't yours."_

_ "Yeah cause you just got me all confuse-" he said, interrupting her. Well, that wouldn't do._

_ "Did you or did you not have it? It's a simple question," she said, having settled onto the table to move in for the kill._

_ "I… I don't know," he said, eyes big as they looked up at her._

_ "Who put you up to this, Bobby? Who gave you that backpack?"_

_ "I don't… I don't know… I don't remember."_

_ "You don't remember? How do you _not _remember?"_

_ "I was in shock. When that bomb went off everyone was running and screaming…"_

_ "Oh, okay," she said, seeing where this was going, "So you remember what happened after the bomb went off, but not before."_

_ "Is must've been one of those traumatic amnesia things…"_

_ "Bobby," she snapped, voice lowering, "Don't lie to me."_

_ "I'm not! It was all a big blank, it was the trauma!"_

_ Trauma? What did this kid know about trauma? Nothing. He knew nothing. The walls around her personal life that were usually so strong during interrogation promptly broke, her instinct for the hunt overcoming them._

_ "It was _not _the trauma," she said, anger flaming in her voice, "You don't get to use that excuse."_

_ "I swear, I don't remember!" _

_ "The hell you don't remember! Do you want to know trauma? I was shot in the chest and I remember _every second _of it! And so do you."_

_ She circled around behind him, leaning against the wall to let him mull over that for a while. Her mind also needed a moment. Wow. That… That was the first time she'd said that outside of Burke's office. She took in a deep breath. Sure felt a little odd… _

_ Half an hour later of pointless questioning she left the box. It had been a while since questioning anyone had hit that close to home, not since the sniper really. Though really, every case this year seemed to tie back to her life somehow in the end. Also she… she just couldn't shake the feeling that someone had been listening, watching that interrogation, though that was definitely just her imagination. Nobody was around to be watching it. Castle wasn't at the precinct yet, it was still early. The boys were digging into leads elsewhere, had better things to be doing. Gates wouldn't have allowed them to just watch. Queen Permafrost probably had them slaving over the witness interviews somewhere._

_ They had solid proof the bozo did it, but he couldn't remember the time before he planted a bomb? Memory wasn't specific like that, right? It wasn't like he'd been shot or his one and done had proclaimed his love after years of struggle or claimed to not have knowledge about the proclamation of love to said one and done and avoided them for an entire summer… no. She settled into her desk chair, smiling at the coffee mug placed on her desk. Grabbing it, she took a long gulp of it. She would need the caffeine today, that was for sure. It was near guaranteed to be a long day. Esposito walked up, looking concerned._

_ "Hey Esposito," she said, "Got anything? Oh, and have you seen Castle?"_

_ "Uh…" he said, "No, and yes." _

_ "Oh, where is he?" she said, shuffling a few papers around._

_ "Well he came in while you were in the box, and last I saw him he was heading off to go watch you. Thought he'd be with you," he said, his expression growing more concerned. _

_ "Oh, okay," she said, "Guess he just…"_

_ Oh no._

_ No, oh god, no. Not now. He'd heard her. He'd heard her in interrogation. He'd _heard her_. Heard her announce to anyone nearby that she remembered the gunshot. And how much more specific could she have been about how much she remembered? Every single second of it. It wasn't like she'd said 'and I remember it,' she'd said every single second. No excuses to hide behind, that it was hazy, that she couldn't remember anything clearly and that it was all dreamlike. He had heard. He knew she deceived him about what she remembered. And of all the ways to find out, in an interrogation and her seemingly blurting it out like it was nothing? In all the times she'd discussed this secret with Dr. Burke he'd always try to talk her into telling Castle, and she'd claim she wasn't ready, and then he'd ask her how she planned on telling him then. This was definitely not one of them. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. God, how could she have been so stupid? So careless? Granted, she thought he was home and she'd been caught up in the thrill of the chase but still… it was no excuse. No excuse to let that fall out like it was nothing, knowing that anyone could be watching. _

_ "Beckett, you okay?" asked Esposito, interrupting her thoughts and looking at her, worried._

_ "I… Yeah," she said absently. Esposito shot her a final look before getting called away by Ryan to check something out. _

_ She sank into her desk chair, ignoring the questioning stares from everyone around her and biting back a burning flood of tears just dying to burst out. Some part of her told her to chase him down and set him straight about the deception- chances were he wasn't still in the precinct. But as for the rest of her, that was frozen in place in that desk chair, with a shattering heart and a mind in turmoil. Would she ever see him again? Would he even want to see her again? Would they ever recover from this? If they didn't, would she ever recover from this? _

_ And all of his marriages ended in lies too. She might as well be the same as Meredith, might as well have cheated on him. She'd broken his trust, the absolute trust they'd shared, the trust that had them comparing how many times they'd saved each other's lives. She'd blown it up, and she'd have to fix it or it would never come back. And losing him… it… she wouldn't… ugh. Her heart had already been broken once before, and it barely recovered from that. A second blow to that bandaged and bruised heart? No, she'd never put the pieces back together._

_ Damn. She took a deep breath, letting out a shaky exhale. She'd fix it. She had to. Well, she had to at least try. He deserved to know why, why she lied, why she wasn't good enough for him yet. He deserved an apology, as he'd done for her so many times in the past when he'd messed up. He deserved to know how badly she wanted this to end in the marriage, the 2.5 kids, the happily ever after, the forever… oh god did she just admit that? Yes. Yes she did. And she didn't want to be the one to ruin that eternity by being the broken bird, if she hadn't ruined it already. _

_ She dragged her reluctant body up off the chair, avoiding the curious looks the nosy uniforms and detectives were all shooting her and headed to the break room to think. She'd have to apologize, that was clear. An explanation? She guessed it was the same thing, really. Hopefully he'd been willing to hear it. She'd do anything to have him understand, to at least… at least forgive her. To return to the fragile balance they'd had. That balance seemed like a faraway dream right now. She'd do anything, always to get back to that. Thing was, she couldn't leave the Precinct in the middle of the day. Gates would never allow it, especially not with this case. It would have to be put off. Though how the hell she would be able to put it to the back of her mind, she had no idea._

And now here she was, sitting outside a hospital room. He'd been stabbed. Stabbed! A few more inches to the right and he'd be dead. Just like her mother, dead with knife wounds, bleeding out and dying on the cold, cold ground. Another barrier of people who just didn't get it to pass. Another body to have embedded in her mind. Another grave to visit.

The thought caught her breath in her throat, the world narrowing and images flashing through her mind. Castle, dead behind a line of police tape. A stabber not caught, a case marked cold. Feelings not said, a hysterical daughter, a grieving mother… things left unsaid, love never shared. It took a long struggle to snap herself out of it. Been a while since she'd had one of those, not since the sniper really. Knives and people she loved tended to throw her into panic attacks. She really ought to just ban everyone she loved from going near knives at this point. At the thought she gave a hollow laugh, gaining her a few worried looks from around the tense room. Martha sat with Alexis, the teenager curled into her grandmother's side. Alexis and Beckett had exchanged some harsh words, the two of them. But now, now all there was between them was unified fear for Castle's life, regardless of the doctors insisting that he wouldn't die from an arm wound, no matter how deep, and that he'd be fine. He hadn't almost died from blood loss. His heart wasn't stopping. He didn't have a bullet broken heart. He'd be okay.

Or at least that was what she kept telling herself anyway.

Ryan and Espo weren't there. At the precinct they had essentially stolen the stabber off of Slaughter's hands (how _did_ they convince Gates?) and had destroyed the stabber in interrogation the last she'd heard. You didn't mess with a teammate and get away with it. They were doing the paperwork at the moment for booking. Her boys.

Slaughter had visited the hospital for a moment. Bad idea on his part. Martha Rodgers and Alexis Castle were there, and getting one of the Castle clan hurt? Stupid. Very, very stupid. She'd had to get between the three of them before it turned into another homicide case. Slaughter had looked quite shaken at the end, impressive. She'd easily convinced him to go back to the Precinct. She didn't get a turn to loose her fury at him, but with a verbal beating like that from the Castles? The job was basically done.

She heard a door open and her head jerked up to see a doctor smiling at them, "The operation was very successful. Mr. Castle will need a while to recover, but in time he'll be as good as new."

Beckett released a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, mirrored by Martha and Alexis. He wasn't going to die. He wasn't going to be the next cold, lifeless, and bandaged body she'd have to watch go into the earth. He was alive. He'd be fine. And for right now, that's all that mattered.

"Can we go in and see him yet?" asked Alexis quietly, sounding many years younger than she was as she stood up.

"Of course you can, Miss Castle," said the doctor, "However… Miss Beckett, is it? Miss Beckett will have to wait. Hospital rules."

"Why?" struck up Martha with a surprising amount of bravado considering what she'd just gone through,

"I'm sorry Miss Rodgers," said the doctor, "But the rules state only significant others or family of the patient may go in at this hour. However, when it's visiting hours again Miss Beckett will certainly be allowed in."

"My son and Beckett might as well be married," said Martha. Beckett startled. _What_? What had that woman just said? She gaped at Martha in shock, her expression mirrored in Alexis's face as well. The doctor faltered a moment.

"I'm sorry but what?" exclaimed Beckett, turning to look at Martha, who kept a perfect poker face regardless.

"I-I'm sorry ma'am but rules are rules…"

"Martha, it's all right," Beckett said, laying a hand on the older woman's arm, barely restraining her confusing wreck of emotions, "I'll come as soon as it's open."

"If you think you'll be all right," sighed Martha.

Beckett nodded, and steeling her resolve not to turn around and demand she be let in like some sort of spoiled child she walked through the white corridors of the hospital. She hated herself for leaving, for letting him follow that case, for trusting Slaughter, for the words said that night in his office… for everything. But for right now, she just grit her teeth and thrust out into the dark streets of the city towards her car to head on home.

_She took a deep breath as she stared at the smooth metal surface of the door to his loft. It's cool surface had greeted her many a time before, but never in this sort of situation. Never to apologize for a poor past decision. Taking a deep breath, she hesitantly knocked on the door, almost not expecting an answer._

_ The door opened, and she was met with a first cheery, then stormy Richard Castle. _

_ "Do you need something, Detective?" he asked, voice matter-of-fact and cold._

_ "I… can I talk to you for a second?" she said, feeling like a teenager getting reprimanded by her father after sneaking out one night too many, an hour too late. His eyes flicked between emotions, eventually settling on that hurt-anger-disbelief-pain he'd had when they had fought in her apartment the day Montgomery died. He began to close the door but she whipped out a hand and stopped it before it could close all the way, gazing up at him through the space she managed to pry open._

_ "Please, Rick," she said quietly, "Please…"_

_ He glowered down at her, and she saw him swallow hard. A moment of tense silence later he finally spoke. _

_ "Come in. We can talk in the office," he said, whipping around and heading off towards his office. She followed him, nerves tingling and anxiety high. She'd have to tread carefully on this one. They walked into his darkened office and he turned a handful of lights on, leaving the office mostly in shadows._

_"Why?" he asked, voice soft as she closed the office door behind her. The raging anger she had expected was nowhere to be seen. He was all hurt and betrayal, and it burned even more than anger could ever have. Anger would have been like a blazing fire. But this? This was like acid, slowly burning down her resolve and soul. He spoke again, "Why?"_

_ "I… I…" she stammered out, trying to find the words, "I wasn't… strong enough. Not yet. Both physically and mentally. I just wanted to be everything for you that I can be, and I can't be that until that wall inside of me goes down."_

_ "Yes, we've been through this," he said, voice edged with bitterness. She took in a sharp breath, garnering all of the stoic strength she used in her job._

_ "And I just wasn't… ready. And I just… I'm so, so sorry for hurting you," she said, biting her lip. Great explanation Kate. Great job. A+. His face changed to sadness for a moment before flipping right back to that immense pain. _

_ "Are you ever going to be ready though?" he said, blue eyes staring her down. She stared at him in astonishment. Is that was he thought? Is that what she thought? Was she? Would she ever be ready? Would she ever deem herself ready enough or would they just end with one of them dead and the other left to a life of regret? She balked at the thought._

_ "You know what I think?" he said, standing up from where he'd been sitting on his desk, stepping towards her, "You're afraid. Afraid of someone getting behind that all powerful wall of yours, of getting under that armor. You're afraid of what you are underneath it. Scared of love. Scared of commitment. So you did the only thing you could: run away. Instead of facing your feelings and fears like the woman I thought you were, you just turned tail and ran. And the only way you could run away from this? Lie and avoid the one person to managed to get pass that so-called wall, hiding under the covers of your mom's murder, leaving me no reason not to believe that you blamed me for your shooting as much as I still blame myself. And now… now no reason to believe you lied because you don't feel the same way."_

_ "Castle that's not what I meant at all-" she managed to blurt out, staring at him with a mix of anger of calling out her weaknesses so bluntly and horror that he thought she blamed him for the shooting. And not loving him? No… that couldn't be farther from the truth. No…_

_ "Of course it wasn't," he said, hollowly laughing, "Of course it wasn't. Of course you were too blind in your flight from… from love to see how this would affect anyone else. Cowardly of you."_

_ "Excuse me?" she said, fighting power rising up from somewhere in her, "What did you just say?"_

_ "Cowardly of you," he said, "To run instead of facing the truth. Instead of facing emotions… instead of acknowledging their existence, you found it better to lie to your… your partner," he spat out the word, "How does a loyal, honest, justice-obsessed detective go so bad? When does selfishness become key to living? When does fortifying your heart become more important than emotion? Since when is emotion a poison? I guess it was all a lie, then. Just an illusion in my head. I'm such a fool, doomed to betrayal from all the people I trust in life. Unless you care to explain again, if you can bear to be truthful about why you'd lie to me like that."_

_ During his cold analysis of her she found herself falter, the fighting strength sapped from her. She'd stepped back at every word, like each was a stinging slap across the face, and was currently backed against his office wall. Probably some depressing irony in that somewhere. This was a side of him she'd never seen. Never. This… this was a twisted version of the man who cracked her whole backstory after knowing her for but a few hours. She reached up, swiping at two rebellious tears that must've fallen at some point. Damn. Again, really? His face faltered as he saw the tears, seeing a flash of a need to comfort and the partnership they had once had before his face frosted over again. _

_ "You want to know why?" she choked out, taking a tentative step towards him, "You want to know the truth? The why behind my apparently apocalyptical lie? The why you always want behind everything, no matter how trivial or dangerous? You want to know the absolute truth?" she said, needing all of her training to keep her voice level and not breaking left right and sideways. _

_ "Well, that might be a good place to start," he said coldly._

_ She matched his piercing glare, tossing aside the more flowery way she had thought on saying this. What they needed right now was complete simple honesty, as that's what she'd withheld from him. _

_ "Because I… damnit, Rick," she said, a semi-hysterical laugh coming out, "I love you. I love you, all right? I love you more than I've ever loved before, and you're right. It scares the crap out of me. The last time someone got this ingrained into my heart it was my mother, and we both know how that ended. A massive hole in my heart that never really got better. I'm scared of that pain, that crushing grief… you don't know what it's like, Rick. To lose someone like that. Losing you… if we fell apart, if it fell apart because of me and my issues, I don't think I'd ever move on, Rick."_

_ "And just…. I lied, I lied because of that. If I lost you because of my confusion at the time… hell, even my confusion right now, I just wouldn't be able to go on. I am begging you, I can get down on my knees if you still don't believe me, to please at least consider… consider everything. Please, Rick."_

_ His eyes were a flurry of emotions, flitting from shock to anger to a need to comfort her (oh god, was she seriously crying again?) to that look that was just the sheer complicated love that was them… and she had just said she loved him. To his face. No excuses, no barriers, nobody on the ground dying. Just them, and the confession that hung in the tension-clad air between them. She'd jumped over that cliff. Hopefully there'd be a soft landing at the bottom._

_ They remained standing there, staring at each other for what felt like forever. Cheesy yes, but it was the best way to describe it honestly. Those blue eyes of him seemed to be piercing into her soul. They both let out a heavy breath, ever in sync. _

_ "I," he started, "I…"_

_ "Castle," she sighed, "You… you aren't obligated to forgive me right now, or even at all, you know."_

_ "I know," he breathed, "I… can you give me some time to figure this out? I'll contact you before three months pass though," he added hurriedly._

_ "Of course," she said quietly, "I sure know what it feels like to need space, huh. But… you… we can work it out. No more secrets. No more lies."_

_ Something flickered across his face that she couldn't place. What was wrong? There wasn't something else, was there? No, she was being ridiculous. He wouldn't lie, not him. Not to her. And what was there to lie about between them now? She was being silly. After the brief pause he nodded._

_ "Yes… I'll call you," he said, looking distant._

_ "I should go," she said, looking at the time. _

_ "Of course," he said, leading her out. With a final glance at a lost looking Castle and the loft, she turned down the hallway and left. This would be a rough stretch of time._

Whilst lost in the memory she had gotten herself into her loft and onto her couch, one hand wrapped around her phone, the other playing with the chain around her neck. Right. Ring. Watch. Gun. Might be a good idea to take those off. It must've slipped her mind when she was thinking. She hauled herself up and placed the items into the bureau, drawing a deep breath. What a whirlwind couple of weeks, huh. First the bomb, her admission, then the British agent from across the lake who admittedly made her heart flutter a little… she wasn't going to deny that Simon Hunt was hot, and British accents… well, they were attractive for her. Castle and she had argued over this attraction to Hunt and her going undercover at a ball for a while, pretty heated arguments too. Guess the tension was still high after her secret blew up in their faces. And now this. He lay stabbed in a hospital wing and she was just an emotional wreck. Wonderful.

They had never really gotten around to talking about that night. It hung over them heavily though, and the team was, of course, suspicious. Lanie had badgered her when the British fellow showed up, and they'd had a girl's night at her place. And had they had fun that night or what? Talked about the guy problems in their lives for what must've been at least an hour, got drunk, had some fun… Something neither of them had gotten to do in long time. It had been nice. Given her a sense of normalcy again, you know? And normalcy was something that was completely gone after the bomb case hit. Though honestly, when had normalcy ever been in her life?

As she began to settle back into her couch- little chance of her sleeping that night- her phone went off. She picked it up and saw that it was Martha. Her mind jumped immediately to the worst case scenario as usual. He had died, the doctors actually missed something when they did the operation. He was bleeding out… that he didn't want to see her in the morning. That he was waiting for her on a cold gray slab. That he didn't want anything to do with her. That they'd have to plan a funeral. That he was angrier than ever with her.

"Hello?" she said, hoping she didn't sound as anxious as she felt.

"Hello Kate," said Martha on the other end of the line, "Richard is doing fine, before you jump to him dying or something ridiculous like that."

She let out a small sigh of relief.

"The doctors have agreed to let you come in and see him, even though it's against those silly hospital rules of theirs," said the older woman.

"And why… why is that?" she asked, getting up and scrambling for her shoes and bag, managing to not drop her phone in the process as she hurried out the door, "Not that I'm against coming of course."

"Well, he's well enough to badger the doctors to a point of insanity, insisting that you visit," said Martha, chuckling a bit. She could hear the faint sounds of Castle protesting something in the background, too faint for her to understand. The older woman continued, "And just to shut him up the doctors have been kind enough to let you visit. I may or may not have had a hand in that decision."

Beckett laughed, "I'll be right over."

"See you soon, Kate," said Martha, and Beckett placed the phone down onto her car's dashboard. She attempted to stay calm as she rushed out into the near-empty streets of the city, tempted to throw the gumball on. There was no real point though; there was hardly any traffic this early on a Sunday in a low-tourist season. And anyway, it would be unethical.

Her mind wandered as she meandered through the streets. He had been asking for her. Asking for her to the point of the hospital breaking protocol just to get him to shut up. Yes, he could be very persuasive but… the fact that he'd been so determined to see her… No. No, he surely just wanted to hear about the case. Surely he just did it because Martha told him to do it.

Her expectations were kept low by her dismal thoughts and she soon found herself staring at the door to his room once more. She winced at the oppressive stark whiteness of the hospital, of the prison she was trapped in for weeks after her shooting. Miserable couple of weeks that was. Hospitals would never, ever seem good to her after that ordeal. She'd already disliked them too after catching pneumonia in 5th grade and being stuck in a hospital barely able to breathe, not to mention bored out of her mind. The hospital was death, boredom, agonizing pain… bad memories.

She desperately tried to calm her frantic nerves. No, no, no, this panicky breakdown mode wouldn't do. She pulled her scattered brain back as best she could, wondering briefly if she should have brought flowers or something before walking in... he'd understand. Pulling open the door, she froze at the sight of him. His face was pallid, hair disheveled. His breathing was shaky, even though the doctors claimed nothing too drastic had happened to his ribs or lungs. Just minor bruising- though it sure didn't look minor. Tubes stuck out of his free arm, the other arm swathed in endless bandages and slings and what not. But he was alive. Alive. Not bleeding out onto the cold floor. Not dead and surrounded by yellow police tape. Alive, and surrounded by his family who had just noticed her presence.

His blue eyes spotted her and lit up, a weak smile taking over his face. Alexis and Martha stood up, greeting her cheerfully. Martha excused the two of them, and now alone, Beckett kneeled down next to the bed where Alexis had been earlier.

"Hey," he said, "How do I look?"

"Hey yourself," she said, "Terrible."

"Can always trust you to be… honest," he said, pausing for a while before saying the word. Her heart clenched as she was dragged back to the memories of their fight… fights? She bit her lip to keep the breakdown at bay.

"Kate?" he said quietly, nudging her with his leg, "You there?'

"I'm so sorry," she breathed, a hand tentatively reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his face, "For lying. For hurting you. For not doing more about Slaughter. For not doing more. For everything."

"Don't be," he said.

"No," she said, shaking her head, "You have every right to be mad at me. Why aren't you angrier with me? I haven't even forgiven myself yet, looking back at that decision."

"I'm not going to change your mind about how much I 'should' forgive you, am I?" he said, giving her a look as she shook her head.

"No," she said, "You won't. And it's okay."

After a moment's pause he spoke again, "Are you okay?"

"You're asking me?" she said, laughing, noting that her hand had absentmindedly taken his, "But… I don't know how I feel right now. This past month has been quite the rollercoaster ride, you know? And I just want you to know that I… I don't regret what I said. That what I said, the thing we've been avoiding for the past month… I don't regret it."

"Are you avoiding saying it again for your sake or mine?" he asked, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of her palm.

"I… I think we've both danced around the subject for long enough now," she said.

"We have," he said, pausing and smiling, "Why does it always take near death for us to talk about things? I mean come on, what's it gonna take next? A tiger on fire in your sinking car in a frozen Hudson river with us trapped inside said car?"

They shared a bizarre moment of laughter over the image only they would understand the feeling behind, stopping when he coughed a few times. She shot him a concerned look but he waved her on to continue.

"I don't know," she said, "But… are you…I'd understand if you still need space. I sure know about needing space to think. You'd be justified. Even if you need to not see me for a year. I mean I think we've both had our share of bad judgments. And you deserve time to think. I've certainly learned plenty about needing time to think."

The words she was speaking hurt, they really did. But he needed to know that he didn't need to be the one always forgiving and apologizing. He had a right to be angry, and that feeling wouldn't be good bottled up inside of him. Oh, look at what she was thinking now. Who's the hypocrite? She was.

"Kate," he sighed, "It hurt that you lied. It really did. You had reasons, reasons I still struggle to understand, but that's in the past. And… I'm willing to wait as long as you need."

His eyes were sad as they looked at her, and she recoiled in shock. Wait for her? She was waiting for him to think about all that had happened! Why was he giving her more time? Shouldn't that be the other way around? That wasn't right. For either of them.

"How much longer do we have to wait, Rick?" she said quietly, "I… what if something happens before then? What if I'm on the job and something happens? What if you're hurt again? What if we aren't so lucky? I… I don't understand why you aren't angrier, Rick."

"Kate," he said softly, "It's all right."

"No, it's not," she said, pulling back, "I… I just don't understand why you can deal with seeing me, that's all."

"Because we're partners," he said, and she turned her head to look at him curiously, "We're going to go through rough times, Kate. What really matters is how we get through them. Our… whatever this is right now, these hardships can only make it stronger. Though if you want me to be outrageously angry at you for lying due to the reasons I can't still understand…"

"You see Rick?" she said, standing, "I… if you don't get why I did it still I don't want you feeling like you have to forgive me, have to accept this because of who you've always been in this partnership, whatever this is. Just because I apologized it… it doesn't make it better. You're allowed to be hurt, you're allowed to be angry. And we both have a lot of issues right now, and I just…"

"I know that, Kate," he said, "But I'll understand the why someday. And I want you to be there during that someday."

"I… but what if…"

With surprising strength, considering he only had access to one arm, he pulled her into him, lips meeting gently. She threw her arms on either side of him, catching her weight before she fell onto his battered chest. She sighed into the surprise kiss, his lips feeling like a wave of satin regardless of everything he, they, had just gone through. After a few blissful moments she pulled away, a smile akin to a teenage girl's after her first kiss spreading all over her face.

"Now that we're both on the same page," he said gruffly, "I just want you to know that I love you, Katherine Beckett."

Even looking half dead, the sincere look in his eyes warmed her heart like he had once upon a time, all those years ago when she was a fangirling detective bringing him in for questioning. Forget boundaries. Forget walls. She was ready to just dive off the edge of the cliff into the water below. This was right. This was real.

"I love you too, Rick," she breathed, brushing a hand over his cheek gently. She frowned as he tried to stifle a small yawn, "You need to rest."

"I've rested enough…" he mumbled out even as his eyelids fluttered, "Don't need to sleep…"

"No, you need rest," she said firmly, pulling back as he tried to pull her back to him, "We still have things we need to talk about, Castle."

He sighed, blinking tired blue eyes at her again, "Be here when I wake up?"

"Of course. We can… talk once you're better," she said hesitantly. He nodded, giving in to the grip of sleep, she watching as his breathing became slow and regular. She stood as his family walked in.

"Assume you two made up?" said Martha, a knowing smile on her face, "Everything all right?"

She nodded, "As well as we'll ever be."

"Of course, darling. Do you have a plan for what you're doing until the morning?"

"Uh… I don't, actually," she said, sighing, "Castle asked me to be here when he wakes up but I wouldn't want to impose. I can't imagine what you had to go through to get them to let me in here, let alone staying for the night."

"Oh no darling it wouldn't be a problem," said Martha, smile growing, "I actually already talked that lovely young gentleman outside into letting us stay here and getting us something to rest on besides that dingy old couch."

Alexis passed by Beckett, putting an overnight bag she must've fetched at some point down, whispering, "More like terrified into submission…"

Beckett laughed at the girl's comment, and Martha raised an eyebrow at them.

"Exaggerating again, Alexis?" she said, "Just like your father. But Kate, it's truly not a problem. You're family."

Her heart warmed at the woman's words, a grateful smile growing on her face, "Thank you."

Martha waved her off as nurses pulled in the makeshift beds. After a few minutes of shoving around pillows and blankets they all settled down, turning off the lights. For a while she just watched the monitors alongside Castle's bed, watching the steady blue pulse on the screen, the steady beeping that proved his heart still beat. It soon lulled her into a surprisingly peaceful, sleep, void of knives, murders, and shootings.


	2. Chapter 2

Oh my goodness thank you all for your alerts, favorites and especially your wonderful reviews! They really made my day. Huge thank you to everyone following this.

And oh god 47 Seconds... that was a brutal night to be writing this chapter. That's where some of the fluffier aspects of this chapter were born to be honest. And this whole thing is now a slight AU, party. But anyway, please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't have anything witty to say and my brain is still somewhat in denial after 47 Seconds. I am nowhere near owning any part of Castle at all.

* * *

><p>She awoke to the smell of coffee and breakfast, something she hadn't woken up to in a long time. Last time that'd happened would probably have to have been when Castle stayed over at her loft during the Nikki Heat creep case, though that lovely morning had been interrupted by a body falling through her door. Speaking of Castle and mornings… she sat up, blinking at the bright fluorescent lights and attempting to reorient herself. Right. Hospital, Castle, family, kissed, stabbed, love… and that did not help her state of confusion one bit. She stretched languidly and stood up. Turning around she noticed Castle staring right at her.<p>

"Good morning," he said cheerfully.

"Were you sleep stalking me?" she accused, walking towards the lone chair alongside his bed.

"Maybe. It's not like I have much else to be doing right now. I'm bored out of my mind," he said, still smiling as she sat down but frowning as she continued to just sit there, "What, no good morning kiss?"

She rolled her eyes, picking up a coffee she guessed his family must've fetched, "Nuh-uh, not for you. Maybe if you're a good boy. You're looking a lot better by the way."

"Thanks, glad to know I no longer look like a zombie. And what would constitute 'good' with me unable to really move without hauling IVs behind me?" he said, a twinkle coming into his eyes she'd missed for the past couple of weeks.

"Good would be not harassing me about needing something to do all day," she said, "Didn't your mother or Alexis bring you something to do? The nurses?"

"No," he huffed, "They won't give me anything, including my phone. I'm pretty sure it got ruined in the alleyway. Busted again. Our phones have gotten a lot of hell this year, haven't they. Especially mine. I swear if I have to get a new contract again…"

"Is that all you care about? Your phone?" she scoffed, peering over him to see a notebook and pen lying beside his bed, "And look, they did bring you something to do."

"What, write? Like writing is something I want to be doing right now!" he complained.

"Do you ever want to be writing, Castle?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes!" he protested, "Just not ninety five percent of the time."

"And the other five percent?" she asked.

"That's usually when Gina's been keeping me up all night with calls or visits or even worse, she's called my mother and they're both nagging me," he said, shuddering, "And oh man, do those women know how to nag."

"At least with _Heat Rises_ she didn't have to resort to calling the precinct to get to you."

"Okay, that was different."

"Of course."

"It was though."

"Whatever you say," she said, putting her coffee down and placing her hands onto his bed carefully.

"I do like writing," he pouted, "Just not most of the time. Though when it's about Nikki and Rook having some fun I have no problem writing all abo-"

"Anyway," she interrupted, "To save your fragile writer's psyche and my own sanity, let's change to a different topic, shall we? Where are Martha and Alexis?"

"Oh. After they went and got breakfast they ran home to get a few things," he said, "Mother had to 'regather' herself and Alexis just sort of got dragged out the door behind her."

She chuckled, "Feel bad for Alexis sometimes, with a family consisting of you two. She goes through a lot, that girl."

"She does…" he said, voice trailing off as he glanced up at her hooded eyes. The fight-argument-rant flew into the front of her mind again at the talk of Alexis. He was reading her again, wasn't he. He was the only one who could do that, unnerve her, read her mind like that. Creepy, to be honest. But she'd done it to him countless times before too. It was like some sort of weird hive mind connection sometimes. He continued after the brief pause, "She… why do I have a feeling the two of you had a talk when I was getting all fixed up?"

"You can read me and your daughter too well, Rick," she said.

"I get lots of practice," he said with a small smile, a refreshing sight to see after the month they'd had.

"But… yeah, we did," she said, biting her lip as his good hand maneuvered its way onto hers. Talking about a pretty bitter argument between herself and his daughter? Probably wasn't the best thing for them right now. But holding it back would only be worse. They were being one hundred percent honest right now, they deserved that. He deserved that.

"Was it bad?" he said, squeezing her palm softly, some of that old Richard Castle that had been a little lost at sea for a month coming back, "I… I know tensions have been high between you two."

She sighed and said, "It was… it was understandable. And we're good. We made peace of a sort while you were getting surgery."

"What happened?"

"We were both scared. I… I can't really imagine how she must've felt. Losing my mom, Royce, Montgomery, all of them were blows, all of them were massive blows who am I kidding. But I know that pain. I know that loss. And this sounds terrible, but it's a familiar downwards-spiraling grief that's always present in my life. But Alexis? She hadn't… I know with Meredith, that can't have been easy for her or for you or for any of you…"

"Kate," he warned, and she blushed.

"Sorry, rambling again. But she hadn't lost anyone like that yet and nobody was telling her anything. For all she knew you were bleeding out because of a bullet in your chest. For all she knew you were gone, dead already. You were in surgery at the time, and I was waiting outside the room…"

_"Where is he?" said a familiar, panicked voice from the right of her. Beckett's head flew up at the sound, spotting a horror-stricken Alexis striding towards her. She stood up and walked towards the hysterical teenager as Alexis continued, "What happened to my dad?"_

_ "Alexis, listen," Beckett said, placing a hand gently on her arm, "Your dad… your dad's okay. It was just a stab wound to the ar-"_

_ "Just stabbed?" said a flustered Alexis, her voice breaking at the end of the word, "How can you say _just stabbed_? Where? When? How? Why?"_

"_Look Alexis…" Beckett started, only to get cut off by another short tirade._

_"Don't look Alexis me. What happened?"_

"_Listen for a second, okay? Your dad was following Detective Slaughter from the 12__th__'s gang unit, as I can imagine he's told you at some point. Slaughter has a bit of a history with witnesses so to speak… but that's an unrelated story. Basically what happened was they were on a case and ended up chasing down a perp in a series of alleyways this morning. The perp had a knife and got your dad in the arm, but it could've been a lot worse. He was very lucky, the knife didn't hit anything vital and his vitals only suffered very minor injuries."_

"_And this other detective didn't do anything to stop it? This… This is why I hate him being at the Precinct. And he's only there because… because of _you_. This is your fault," spat Alexis, whipping around to face Martha as she walked in. Beckett gaped at the girl as she strode towards her grandmother, finding herself slightly in shock at the girl's rage. _

"_Alexis I'm sorry he feels compelled to be at the 12__th__ because of me," she started as Alexis turned around to face her once more, "But your dad's an adult, as childish as he acts sometimes. He makes his own decisions; I can't make them for him. I don't demand that he stay in the precinct, he can leave at any time."_

_The girl's eyes flashed with anger and her mouth opened to respond with a likely cutting remark but she clamped it shut. Huh. Either Alexis just got that renowned self-control back or something was up. For her sanity's sake, Beckett sincerely hoped it was just her regaining her self control. If there were more hidden things, or a secret, or some sort of hidden reason Castle had to stay at the precinct… she didn't even want to think about it. Where did that thought even come from? Alexis was just cooling off, not hiding some catastrophic secret of her dad's. She was being ridiculous and scared. This all likely just stemmed from the panic that set in when she heard he was in the hospital._

"_I'm sorry, Kate," said Martha quietly, away from Alexis, "We're just all so scared right now and we didn't know what was going on."_

"_Don't be," she said, turning to look at the teenaged girl, now collapsed into a waiting room chair. Alexis looked like an odd shadow of her during her latter college years. A shadow of all those days spent collapsing into a bed at home after trying to find herself by doing everything her parents told her not to do all day, all the dark days spent coming back to her dorm confused, wasted, and lost. With a small nod she continued, "I completely understand."_

_ After a few moments of tense silence, Detective Slaughter appeared from the hallway from whence the Castle-Rodgers family had come in earlier. He looked completely calm and composed, a sickening sight knowing what the family, what she had gone through due to his mistakes, whatever mistake it was that ended in a civilian getting stabbed._

_ "He all right?" asked the gruff detective._

_ "Who are you?" asked Alexis, eyes wary._

_ "I'm Detective Slaughter. I was-"_

_ "You," said Alexis angrily, standing up from the chair, "You were with my dad earlier, right? When he got stabbed?"_

_ "Yes," he said calmly, "I was."_

_ "So this is your fault, right?" she continued, "That my dad was stabbed. Why'd you let him in the alley unprotected and without any of your help? I mean, that's the only logical way this could've happened. Unless you stabbed him yourself, which I sincerely hope is not the case."_

_ "Listen, miss…"_

_ "Why was he in the alley?"_

_ "Your father was only a diversion. The perp wasn't supposed to have a weapon nor know about the other passageway into that alley… "_

_ "You used a civilian as a diversion?" struck up Beckett, alarmed, "An unarmed, not backed-up civilian?"_

_ "You're one to talk, Detective Beckett," said Slaughter coolly._

_ "I never used him as a distraction," she snapped, appalled by Slaugher's diversionary tactic and calling her out like she had done the same thing. She wouldn't deserve her badge if she had done that, and right now? He didn't either._

_ "Hey, at least I caught the guy," he said unconcernedly, "And your son, your dad, and your… whatever-he-is-to-you is fine. Win-win situation."_

_ "How dare you," said Martha, stalking closer to Slaughter, who was currently looking a tad alarmed at the actress's tone, "How dare you call my son getting stabbed a 'win'. You sir need to sort out your priorities and your mind if you think someone getting stabbed is him being fine as long as you caught whoever it was that you were chasing after! You don't deserve that badge." _

_ "You let my dad get hurt," growled Alexis, the detective looking a little worried as the Rodgers-Castle lionesses descended upon him. Hell, if Beckett had been in that situation she would've been too. The teenager continued, "You had ample opportunity to prevent this, but you didn't do anything. You used mere assumptions and speculation as the sole defense for him, without any solid information to protect him if something in your plan went wrong. You should be the one stabbed. What did my dad do to deserve this? Nothing. From what I've heard so far about you, you definitely should be the one in there right now."_

_ "Detective Slaughter," said Beckett coldly, watching the shaken man's head flip immediately to her as she stood, "I would recommend you take your leave. I can only imagine the explaining and paperwork you'll have to do back at the Precinct."_

_ "Of course," he said, promptly bolting out of the room as fast as he could whilst maintaining some sort of broken dignity. Martha and Alexis settled into two of the chairs nearest the door after glaring after Slaughter for a moment. Beckett soon followed suit, unnerved by the whole scene. But that was past. All there was right now was the fear for Rick's recovery and its aftermath. She just hoped she'd be ready for the storm coming over the horizon._

He let out a loud exhale as she finished her retelling of events, eyes wide.

"Wow," he said, "Would not want to be Slaughter. Feel kinda bad though, he seemed like a cool enough guy when I first met him."

"Yeah, one with a history of witness and partner casualties," she sighed, "I should've tried harder to stop you."

"Don't go blaming yourself again," he said, frowning.

"It is my fault though at least to some degree," she argued, "Don't try to convince me it isn't."

"It isn't," he said again, and she gave him a look, hoping he'd shut up. Were they really going to do this again? Hadn't they done enough of this sort of yes-it's-my-fault no-it's-not fighting this month? Hadn't they already suffered through enough of these? Enough of the bitter arguments? Enough of the biting words, the furious kickouts, the silent treatments? But… this was good for them though. It was good; she just had to convince herself that, which was probably going to be the hardest part. He continued.

"Look. You getting me off of this case would have been like me trying to get you off your mom's murder last year. I probably wouldn't have gotten off it no matter how hard you tried. I mean come on, a case like that one? Total lure for me," he said, flashing her a small grin.

She felt her heart clench and her scar pull at the mention of her mom's case. Oh yes, him trying to get her off of her mom's case last year just ended fantastically. She drew a deep breath and said, "Yeah, we know how you trying to get me of my mom's case worked. That's one of those taboo things for us, isn't it…"

"We have a lot of those," he said softly, "But we're getting better. At least now we've gotten to the 'I love you's.'"

She smiled at him, "Yeah. And you'd think that'd be the last one we'd get over. It is for most normal people.

"Since when have we ever been normal?" he joked, "Seriously. First time we really met was when you had to drag me in for questioning about a looks-like-a-serial-killer-but-really-isn't homicide case. We've never been normal. Why start now?"

"Yeah…" she trailed off.

"But," he said, "We will… we will talk about everything else someday. We won't… can't put it off forever."

"Of course," she said, "And I could've sworn we said something last night about talking about the whole love thing in the morning. You still up for that?"

"Well technically it's the afternoon, it's 12:30. You got up like thirty minutes ago, maybe," he said.

"I slept until noon?" she exclaimed, "I slept that late? You should have woken me up or something."

"You looked so happy in your sleep though," he protested, "And your nose kept crinkling up every so often like a rabbit, it was adorable. Plus, you've been overworking yourself. You need the sleep. Even if I did want to wake you up it's not like I could drag all of these IVs and what not with me."

"You were so sleep stalking me," she huffed with mock annoyance. The sleep stalking was… weirdly sweet. Was that just her? Was it just him? Being with him made even her oldest pet peeves involving guys seem adorably sweet. Adorably sweet?

"I'm a writer, I can't help but be observant like that," he said, "Maybe in the next Nikki Heat book Rook will be watching Nikki sleep and… oh I can see it now, 'Her nose wrinkled up as she slept, much like his childhood neighbor's rabbits Rook used to love as a child…'"

"If you publish that I will end you," she warned.

"No you wouldn't."

"Yes, I would."

"You love it."

"I don't."

"You do."

"Neither of us can win here, Castle."

"I so can."

"No you can't," she countered, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at him like a seven-year old might. He pouted at her and she laughed at his despondent expression.

"Don't laugh at me, I'm injured," he said, jostling his bad arm a bit.

"Want me to kiss it and make it better?" she teased, his eyes lighting up.

"I'm open to that suggestion," he said, "And oh… ow… I think I'm hurt everywhere. All over my body."

"Of course you are," she said, rolling her eyes, "Glad there's still some jackass in you."

"Hey, you're the one who offered here," he pointed out with a smirk.

She shook her head at him before leaning over his blanket-covered body to peck at his bandaged arm. His free arm snagged around her and yanked her into him. She found herself pulled partly on the bed, partly on top of him and partly off the bed with one foot awkwardly still on the floor. All in all it ended in a mess of her tangled limbs over him, caught in a surprisingly strong grip. Had he been working out or something?

"Castle!" she yelped as he gripped her, trying to wrest herself from his grip, "Not funny. I could've seriously hurt you if I had gone with my reflexes."

"Victory!" he said, "And no you wouldn't have. You'd miss me too much if you'd hurt me."

"I am not getting into another yes-I-can no-you-can't argument with you," she said, "And I thought we were going to have a serious conversation this morning."

"We are," he insisted, "This is a very serious conversation."

"Maybe from a four year old's point of view," she said, wiggling out of his arms, "We have a lot to talk abo-"

"Richard we have returned!" announced Martha as she waltzed into the room, Alexis in tow, "With some, how did you describe it, Castle-esque entertainment."

Beckett stood with a start, smoothing out her tousled hair quickly.

"Are we… interrupting something?" said Martha, a smirk growing on her face.

"No," said Beckett.

"Yes," said Castle.

"Kind of?" she offered, glancing at her injured man before saying so.

"I see," said Martha, that smirk now firmly planted on her face. Why were parents so good at that sort of thing? Her father knew just how to make it seem like he knew exactly what was going on whenever she brought boyfriends, or even just friends who were guys home as well. She supposed it was just a parent thing or something… there was something about a person's parents that could make even a grown woman such as herself feel like a lovestruck and naive little girl again.

"Anyway Mother," said Castle, "What did you bring me?"

"Something that I know will keep you entertained for hours, kiddo," said Martha, rummaging around in her vibrantly colored purse, "Now where did I put it?"

"I'll believe it when I see it," he huffed, straining to see what his mother was taking out of her bag. The older woman found it and placed it down on the bed in front of Castle. Beckett had to quickly stifle a laugh. Really? This could keep him entertained for hours? She'd have to talk to Martha and hear about more of these hidden secrets to keeping Castle busy.

"A Rubik's cube? Honestly Mother?" he said, picking it up, "First of all, you know how I am with these and secondly, how am I supposed to do this with one arm even if I could do them?"

"Exactly my point in bringing it," said Martha, "Though I'm sure between you and Kate you'll figure out something. I'm sure she'll be glad to help you."

"I will?" said Beckett, turning to Martha.

"Well, you don't seem like you have work today dear. So why don't you just stay with Richard? Alexis has a mandatory college seminar today and I had some very important plans. It kills us to leave you…"

"Dad, you sure you'll be okay?" said Alexis, peering around her grandmother, "I mean, I don't have to go to the seminar it really isn't that important…"

"No, it's fine Alexis," said Castle, "Kate will be here to keep my company, and before you know it you'll be visiting again. I'm not going anywhere."

"In that case," said Martha, "We must take our reluctant leave. See you later Richard, Kate."

"Bye Dad," said the teenager with a nod to Beckett. They may have made peace the two of them, but that didn't mean it would be all sunshine and rainbows and unicorns between them. She understood though. If her father ended up with a woman whom he thought was the woman of his life, that woman betrayed him like she had betrayed Castle, and seemed to constantly put him in danger… she wouldn't be advocating for that woman either.

"See you," he said as they left. He turned to Beckett, "Looks like it's just the two of us."

She nodded, "Seems so. We going to talk?"

Whilst she spoke, he had picked up the varicolored cube lying on his bed. He used his legs as leverage to turn one of the sides and she shot him a look as he switched the sides around.

"Guess that's a 'no, I would much rather play with a Rubik's cube than have a serious conversation with you,'" she said dryly.

"In my defense," he said, smiling up at her adorably, "I've never been able to solve one of these and it's far too distracting to have lying right in front of me for me not to at least attempt to figure it out."

"A plastic Rubik's cube is more interesting and distracting than I am?" she said, voice laced with mock horror, "I'm hurt."

"That's not what I meant," he said, "You, Katherine Beckett, are far more interesting than this piece of plastic. Funny, you're actually kind of similar."

"How so?" she asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow. Where was this man going with this? Comparing the love of your life to a Rubik's cube usually didn't earn a guy any points, but this was Castle she was talking to. Chances were he'd probably spin this into the most romantic thing she'd ever heard in her life.

"Well you're both mysteries I'm never going to solve. You both have so many sides and pieces to you that are always shifting around and changing, but still create patterns in the end that just mesmerize me. You both constantly surprise me with what you can do… I saw a kid make this insane sculpture out of Rubik's cube pieces once. It was insane, seriously. But anyway. You both can make me feel a million different things in a matter of minutes. And I can mess with both of you and change you for good, never to return to what you once were, and I'm changed by my experiences with both of you and only for the better."

And yup. He managed to make that bizarre analogy into something complimentary and heartwarming. Why was she surprised?

"Do I have some competition for muse-dom here?" she teased, smiling.

"Definitely. I can see it now, Richard Castle's new bestselling novel follows the enigmatic Detective Cube as he valiantly takes on the mystery of the jumbled sides…" he said, grinning back at her smile.

"Not even Stephen King could pull off such nonsense," she said, peering at the cube in his hands, "And god Castle, how did you manage to get that cube so messed up?

"I'm talented?" he said, shrugging. She snatched it from him, finding herself suddenly glad for the nights spent in a summer camp at the age of nine or ten, learning how to solve Rubik's Cubes under the bright light of a flashlight with friends long forgotten. She whirled through the pattern, a little shocked at how well she remembered it. In a flourish her 5th grade science teacher had always done after solving a cube she flipped it into the air, catching it in front of Castle's gaping face.

"How'd you do that," he said breathlessly, eyes alight with wonder like she had just swallowed a sword or walked across live coals.

"I'm talented," she said, parroting his words from earlier with a smirk.

"Always surprising me, Detective," he said, "Can you teach me?"

"With only one hand and fingers as clumsy as yours?" she said, "I don't think you can do it."

"I so can," he huffed, "And I'm certain that you'll see soon that my fingers are anything but clumsy."

"We'll see. Hopefully I'll hold you up to that second part someday soon," she said, chuckling as he went slackjawed and she settled onto the edge of his hard hospital bed. She jumbled up a cube, silently laughing over how easy he was. He was still gaping at her when she pointed at a set of colored stickers, "You start here…"

They Rubik's cubed for what must've been the better part of the afternoon, the time spent laughing over his continuous failed attempts to do it. This bizarre, childish happiness was interrupted only by the occasional nurse coming in to check on his arm and smile at their antics. By the time three o'clock rolled around, he had still failed to do it.

"Well, you tried," she said, completing the botched pattern for him.

"I'll do it someday," he said, "Probably would be easier if I had my other arm and hand."

She nodded, "Yeah. But it'll get better, you'll see. Soon enough you'll be solving Rubik's cubes and playing laser tag and not driving the cruiser."

"Wonder if I'll get a scar," he said, blinking at her.

"Almost definitely will," she said, delicately running a hand along the bandages on his arm and the pieces of bare skin surrounding it, his body shuddering under her feather-light touch, "It'll make you look dashing I suppose. Give you something to boast to the fangirls about."

She looked up and saw him staring. What now? What did she say now?

"You just said I'll look dashing," he said.

"And your point is…"

"Nothing," he said nonchalantly as she shot him a glare, "Seriously! Nothing!"

"Whatever you say," she said, placing the Rubik's cube onto his bedside table. After a few moments of just looking at each other she broke the silence with the thing neither of them really wanted to say. The thing that they'd avoided with Rubik's cubes and fun, the thing that would break them out of the happy little bubble they'd gotten absorbed into.

"Are we going to talk now?" she said, her voice small, "No more distractions around."

"I guess so, if you're ready to," he said, his tone a tad biting. Ready. That word was an odd sort of poison to their relationship, wasn't it? Someone always wasn't ready to do whatever it was they were asked if they were ready for, though that someone was almost always her. It was always her actually, looking back. When was it ever Rick who wasn't ready? Never. He'd been ready from the start.

"I'm ready," she said solidly, cutting in before he could make the apology she could see building up behind his eyes, "I'm ready."

He seemed skeptical but continued anyway, "What is there to talk about?"

"Well for starters," she said, biting her lip, "What now? Where do we go from here? Or… from wherever here is."

"It's up to us, really," he said, shrugging, "We can attempt to be 'normal' and have a romantic dinner, have a first date, let me blow your mind with some amazing night out. We can keep on whatever we've been for he past month, this past couple of weeks. We can even go to what we were before the bomb case even hit. Whatever feels best, you know? There's no boundaries on what we can or can't be, we don't have to be anything if that's what you want. We can elope to Antarctica or move to my land on the moon for all I care. Honestly, whatever you want, whatever you need…"

"I don't want to go back," she said softly, her hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on his hand, "Definitely do not want to go back. Not now, not after we've come so far in this month, you know? I feel like… I feel like all we do is backtrack. We erase events that are too complicated for us to face, that we're not brave enough to deal with. And I don't want … I don't want that to be us anymore. I want… I want…"

"What do you want, Kate?" he asked, his good hand wrapping around her wandering fingers as she drew a deep breath.

"You sound like Dr. Burke," she forced out, letting out a watery laugh. In fact just a few days earlier Burke had asked her that very same question. The entire session had been about her relationship with Castle, about how she felt about it. Most of her sessions with him lately had actually been about the relationship. Burke had said it was all a part of her getting to that place where she could continue living with her mother's murder, of not losing her life to it. Of finding a new kind of purpose in life.

"Is that a bad thing?" he inquired, squeezing her hand gently.

"I… no," she said, eyes fluttering shut as he began to rub soothing circles over her hand, "It's not."

"So. What is it that you want, Kate?" he repeated.

"I want…" she said hesitantly, eyes opening a crack and looking down at their hands. Honesty. Full honesty now, Kate. She took another deep breath as she continued, forcing herself to speak her mind, to create that completely open connection they had lacked for quite some time, "I want us. I want us to work. I want the forever and always. I don't want… I don't want the betrayal and hurt and sadness or even the normal. I just want…"

"Magic?" he offered, eyes bright and suspiciously shiny. Oh. She had just said she wanted forever with him, didn't she? The words had just sort of tumbled out of her mouth again like they had that night in his office, unheeded and unfiltered. They were all true though, every last one of them. She wanted the forever, the one and done. Was that what it meant to be fully open to him? To not judge her words before letting them out? This was good. It was a good thing. Words were communication, openness. This was a good thing. Especially after she'd set all he thought he knew about her on its head like she had. Noticing that she hadn't answered him, she continued.

"Yeah," she breathed, eyes opening fully to latch onto his, "Magic."

They sat in silence for a while, just allowing their exchange and the crazy month they'd had sink in for once. This was it. This was actually happening. The last month actually happened, it had been real. They actually said 'I love you' to each other without anyone on the floor dying. They were at that point. That boundary was truly gone. All that was left was the edge of the cliff.

"Is it going to be… different now?" she asked quietly, "Between us I mean, now that things have… have…"

"Changed," he said, and she nodded in assent, "I don't see why we'd have to change, really. Everything will be different from this last month, definitely, and its echoes will still be there. To be honest we've really been in a relationship for years, looking back. This is just the next step, the next chapter in our story, the next brick in the road. We're still us. We're still the same playful, crime-fighting, human us. That won't change."

"Except the boys will be constant teases I can imagine," she groaned, "And whatever will we do about Gates? She'd never allow a 'ridiculous romance-blinded couple' in her precinct."

"We'll charm her into liking it, you'll see," he said, "And the boys will stop teasing someday."

"You sure about the boys, Rick?" she said, "Knowing them? We'll never hear the end of the teasing until we're both old and gray."

"Just trying to be optimistic," he said.

She whacked him lightly on the arm, "So we're just… us. No secrets. No walls. Just us."

Something flashed across his face akin to the thing she saw in his office at the mention of secrets, something that set off her police training alarm. Unsettled, she narrowed her eyes at him and asked, "No secrets… right? You aren't hiding anything from me? Not that I'm accusing you or anything."

He swallowed hard, "No… No."

"Well then I guess this is us now," she said, "Might take some getting used to. It's all been so fast."

"This past month has been pretty whirlwind-y. But it can only get better from here," he said, "Things can only get better."

"Yeah," she said softly, "Or I really want to believe that, at least."

"They will," he insisted, a hand running up into her hair, creating a delicious pull on her scalp. He pulled her head into his, somewhat mimicking their first kiss in the alleyway except this time horizontal, on a hospital bed, and with her desperately trying not to crush his still sensitive ribs. This was no sweet little kiss like they'd shared last night. This was the fire that drew them together, that burned between them even when anger and hurt tried time after time to extinguish it. This was the passion, the lust, the sheer longing that had crackled between them since the start. Eventually finding herself starved for air, she forced herself to pull back.

"Believe it," he said roughly after a moment, eyes still blazing.

She let out a shuddering sigh. Wow. Well, that was something else. She gave herself another moment to regain her breath and to just take _that_ in, let alone everything else that had happened in the past twenty four hours. She debated between speaking and going in for another one of those, but of course, he had to go and ruin it.

"…can I kiss you in the precinct once we go back?" he asked, barely holding in the giddy glee behind his battered and bruised exterior.

"No. Oh no," she said, "Probably will forever be a big fat no."

"You're no fun," he protested, "Is at least some contact allowed? I don't think I'd make it through a day working at the precinct with you otherwise."

"Well we've been invading each other's personal space for years now," she said, "It's like you said, hasn't changed. Hell, truth be told you have been invading my personal, mental, and physical space since day one."

"Couldn't help myself," he said, "You were and still are far too irresistible."

"Of course I was," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Not that way," he cut in, both of them smiling a bit. She was glad the banter was back, their sort of banter without the harsh, cutting and snide remarks about secrets and damage, about silence and lunch dates and everything. This was the sort of flow she'd missed, the back and forth that she hadn't known she would miss until it was gone.

"Sure," she said, "So to recap… we're just going to keep being us? That the plan?

Though a mind-blowing first date wouldn't hurt to have at some point."

"Once I'm all healed I will make sure to definitely blow your mind, Kate Beckett," he said, "And yeah, seems like that's the plan. Whatever 'us' is…"

"Partners?" she offered, eyes locking with his. The last time the word had come up between them had been the fight in his office, and there it had been full of venom and bitter feelings. But things had changed over the last month. Big things.

"Partners," he echoed, brushing a strand of flyaway hair out of her eyes, "Always."

She couldn't help but smile at the word, leaning in for a sweet kiss completely different from the other two they'd shared in less than a day. Record for them really. One year they only kissed once in the entire year, and starting as an undercover disguise to boot, and now they'd kissed three times in less than a day. But again, big changes between that year and this year, even between yesterday and today. This kiss wasn't full of fire. This one wasn't an I'm-so-glad-you're-okay kiss. This was again different. She wondered briefly if it would always be like this, if everything would be different with him. But as he said, they weren't normal. It was going to be different. In their world, always wasn't just a word. Always, even the first time he'd said it with a bandaged hand in the back of an ambulance, meant so much more. Always meant "I got your back." Always meant "I'll always be here for you." Always meant "I'll love you until the end of time" before they had the courage to say the words. Always was love. It was them. It was a promise.

"Always," she whispered, beaming back at him.

And, as always with impeccable timing came her phone. She groaned, hauling herself off of Rick… Castle? Rick? She'd have to discuss the name deal with him too at some point. But for right now, what was in front of her was her ringing phone.

"Who is it? Who has the best timing ever?" he said, and she grabbed her phone off the table and walked back over to his beside.

"Esposito," she said, "Who else but the boys would have such flawless timing?"

He laughed and she answered the call.

"Beckett," she said.

"Hey boss," said Esposito on the other end of the line, "Castle alright?"

"Yeah he's fine," she said, "What's up?"

"I'm just to tell you that you're on three days leave to 'recuperate' from this recent tragedy," said a rather amused Esposito.

"Me? Why?"

"Iron Gates said to thank your friend."

"He didn't."

"Don't ask me Beckett I don't know anything."

She heard Ryan's muffled voice in the background, but couldn't make out what he was saying. Esposito sighed into his phone, "Gotta go, something came up. See you."

"See you in three days," she said, sending a look Castle's way, "Bye."

"What did he say?" said Castle.

"Just that Gates stuck me, I don't really get why she put me on it as I'm not the one that's injured here, but I'm off duty for three days so I can take the time to 'recuperate'," she said, turning a suspicious eye towards Castle, "You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with this, would you?"

"Who, me?" he said innocently, "Of course not!"

"You called the mayor didn't you?" she said, stalking back towards him.

"You have no proof," he said, "Cause I couldn't have used my own phone and my family's gone."

"Oh, so are you denying it?"

"No, but I'm not saying I did it either. Just showing that you don't have enough evidence to convict me, Detective."

"I will once I call your mother."

"You have her number?"

"Castle, even if I didn't I could find it easily enough."

"That would be an abuse of power though."

"Yes, but she's coming back here anyway. So did you or did you not call the mayor?"

"All right fine, I did," he said sheepishly, "But it was just so I don't drive my mother and Alexis up a wall while I recover from this. If you're around you can look after me."

"Seriously? You seriously just pulled that?" she said, shaking her head, "Not scoring any points for making Gates like this if you keep showing her up with Wheldon. I'd say you're the one abusing power here, not me."

"Fine, fine, fine, it was a little selfish. But you need the vacation, you haven't taken any days off since the bomb case," he said to defend himself.

"Point taken," she said, "Doesn't mean I'm not still mad."

"Of course," he said, stretching over to grab at the Rubik's cube again, "One more try?"

She sighed heavily, "All right, one more try."


	3. Chapter 3

Hey everyone! Again, just want to start this off by saying thank you for the alerts, favorites, and reviews. I didn't expect this to get even this amount of attention! This one's a tad shorter than the others and almost pure fluff, but it'll all make sense in the end. Thank you all for reading!

Disclaimer: I don't have a witty way of saying the disclaimer at the moment... and I still don't own anything to do with Castle, including the Nikki Heat Books and the excerpt used.

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><p>The big steel door stood in front of her once more.<p>

Though this time, she wasn't afraid of knocking on it, of it opening. She wasn't afraid of what she'd find on the other side, of who she'd find on the other side. Actually, she was fairly excited to see what sort of craziness was occurring in the Castle loft today. Castle had been going a little stir crazy so to speak. His ribs were mostly fine, but they were battered enough for the doctor to recommend him not to go outside too often. He had protested when they had said that, but she had said he could now get some of his writing done. He looked more appalled about the writing than the not being able to go outside, typical Castle.

She pressed the doorbell, hearing shuffling and various other voices on the other side. What was going on? She guessed she was about to find out. The door opened.

"Hey," said a tired looking Castle quietly, letting her in quickly and shutting the door behind her noiselessly, "Thank god you're here. Mother is rehearsing her acting school here again, they're doing Hamlet and she's insisted on top notch special effects."

"Hey yourself," she said, "Glad I can prove an aid to your pain at your mother's rehearsing. Are we going to camp out and hide somewhere? Looks like she stole the entire living room."

"Yeah, she took over the living room this morning with all sorts of crazy contraptions. My office and the upstairs are the only safe bases free from enemy control in the entire household," he said, shuddering, "And even some of the stairs themselves have been invaded by the enemy."

"Your own mother's the enemy?" she said incredulously, hanging her coat up alongside his as she'd been doing for the past three days during her visits.

"Hey, I wasn't the one here who was willing to use a gun on her," he stated with a small smile.

"Okay I didn't realize what I'd said until you interpreted it that way," she huffed.

"Of course you didn't," he said, a flash of pain crossing his face. What was that about? What… oh. Oh. She'd hoped they'd be over that but… it was understandable. Completely understandable. The wound of the massive secret wasn't gone, the scars were still there.

"So," he said, interrupting her thoughts, "Office or the guest room or… Alexis is already camped out in her room."

"Office would be best I think," she said, "To get to the guest room we'd have to cross enemy territory."

He smiled at her for playing along with him, "Smart plan. Shall we? Let's hope they aren't any casualties along the way."

She laughed, "Let's hope not."

They snuck towards the wall, him pressing a finger to his lips. She suppressed a laugh, pressing her lips together tightly to avoid the sound coming out. Oh Castle, ever the child stuck in a man's body. She nodded, and he began to sneak along the wall, spy-style. His bandaged arm proved a little difficult, but he managed nonetheless to leap into the open door of his office without attracting attention. He gestured at her to follow suit. Do that? Oh no, no thank you. She shook her head no, but then that impossible puppy-dog look came over his face and she sighed. She copy-catted his sneaking along the wall, and dashed into the open door. He shut it behind her, leaning over her to turn on the lights.

"Mission was a success," he said, looking at her with bright eyes, "Good job, agent."

"You too," she said, chuckling as he settled into his desk chair, "What are we doing today?"

He shrugged. She glanced at him in irritation before curling up into the chair she'd sat in for all of her visits. It was a sinfully comfortable chair, and it was closest to his desk. If she could she'd steal it and bring it home with her, but that probably wasn't going to fly with Castle.

"Maybe I can force you into writing," she said, laughing. His alarmed expression didn't help the bouts of laughter that came over her.

"Anything but that," he groaned, "That would mean editing _Frozen Heat_."

"Frozen Heat?" she said, a playful twinkle coming into her eyes, "That what the next one's called?"

"Whoops?" he said, shrugging.

"And let me guess, she's naked on the cover even though she's 'frozen' this time," she sighed.

"Pretty much," he said, her forehead meeting her right palm. Did he know how much flack she got about the covers? Suspects, fellow detectives, uniforms, witnesses… all of them seemed to want to know if that was her on the cover these days when he wasn't around. She'd never live it down. But it was him, and she just… anger at him for fairly little things like that didn't last long.

"Why am I not surprised?" she said, sighing.

"Hey, I'm not the one who designed the covers," he said, "And I don't even have much of a say in them at all as the author, just a miniscule opinion really. That's why, I'm guessing, so many books out there have covers almost completely unrelated to the actual book."

"Of course you don't have a say," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I don't, honestly," he huffed, "It's mostly Paula or Gina who decides on the book covers based on what would sell the most. They can't just rely on the writing alone, readers as humans base a lot off of appearances and first impressions. The cover's gotta be good, no matter how many times parents try to teach their kids that you can't judge a book by its cover. Now, not saying it's a bad thing to believe in when it comes to people, it's something we should all learn to accept really, but sadly with actual books people do have a tendency to judge them by their covers most of the time. Can't tell you how many times they've harped to me about that."

"I see," she said, giving him a small smile, "And a naked Nikki Heat on the cover sells the most?"

"According to the publicists and Black Pawn, yes," he said, shaking his head, "But only if it's a female main character. The publishing industry is sexist like that I guess. They never had to make Storm naked on the cover to sell books."

"A lot of industries are like that," she said, nodding, "It's the way this world is, male-dominant. I know that from personal experience. It's an unfair system to be honest, but hopefully with time and effort it'll change."

"Yeah… except apparently in this household I have little to no say in matters," he said, "The women have all the power here. I'm completely outnumbered between you, mother, and Alexis. So unfair."

"Aw, does it hurt your ego?" she teased with a smirk.

"Unbelievably," he huffed as she laughed at him.

The lightheartedness of their conversation and of the days before had sent most thoughts of their tumultuous last month away. The first full day she'd had off from work he'd gotten to come home from the hospital. Alexis had been captured in a series of college nonsense after they picked Castle up, and Martha had a lunch with that theater critic. They were both as reluctant to leave him as they had been the first day he'd been in the hospital. She would've been perfectly fine if they had in fact stayed that day, as their leaving left her alone to look after Rick.

_She shut the door after Martha as the older woman waved goodbye to both of them. Turning to look back at the man leaning against his office doorway, she said, "Looks like I'm stuck with you again."_

_"Couldn't think of anyone better to be stuck with," he said, "What's the plan for this afternoon?"_

_"Am I supposed to have one?" she asked, helping him back towards the couch in front of his TV that he'd been camped in front of._

_ "Yeah," he said, "You're supposed to keep me busy all afternoon."_

_ "Who am I, your nanny?" she scoffed._

_ "Yes," he said, "You are."_

_ "Well if I'm a New York nanny," she said, playing along for his sake, "I would sit here on my phone, leave you with the TV and food, and let you rampage around the house like the holy terror you are."_

_ "I am not a holy terror," he protested, "It sounds like you've had your share of nannies."_

_ "Not as a child, actually," she said, "Dad worked at home, so he'd usually watch me and take me out on excursions around the city when I was little. Mom… she wasn't home a lot some months. She had a habit of staying late at the office working a case if she got into it. But when I was young she'd always make it up to me afterwards on the weekends by taking me to a skating rink, the Plaza for tea, the park, shopping, stuff like that. But never had a nanny, my parents didn't trust them. Sometimes if Dad and Mom were having a night out our neighbor's daughter, Clara, would come over and watch me. She was a sweetheart though, a lot like Alexis now that I think of it."_

_ "I can see where you got your crazy work ethic from now," he said, smiling and pulling her back out of the tide of memories suddenly slamming into her, "Me on the other hand… I went through a slew of nannies when I was young. Mother usually had a show or a performance of some sort, didn't have time to watch me herself. Of course sometimes she would be able to watch me, between gigs, but most of the time I was stuck with teenage girls looking to scrape a bit more cash into their lives to pay off drug habits and whatever else they were into. When Alexis was born I vowed to never get her a nanny and give her the best childhood ever. Somehow with me watching her she still turned out great, don't know how that happened."_

_ "And you did do that," she said, "You gave her a hell of a childhood and you're a great father. I'm sure lots of kids would kill for that sort of growing up."_

_ "And it's weird I just… she's_ leaving_, Kate," he said softly, closing his eyes a moment, "She's going off to college, out into the world. I won't be able to protect her, to guard her anymore. It feels like yesterday she was that tiny little girl at the museum staring at dinosaurs or that girl in the park yelling at me to look out for the tree or the old lady…"_

_ "Shouldn't the one yelling have been you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow._

_ "You know sometimes I wonder who's really the parent in our relationship, Alexis or me," he said with a laugh, "She's always been just… so mature beyond her years, you know? From the start she's been more mature than I've ever been."_

_ "I'll bet," she said, pausing for him a moment before continuing, "So, Mr. Castle, what do you want to do this afternoon?"_

_ "Doctors said I can't do much, and nothing active until at least today is over," he sighed, "That doesn't leave us many options."_

_ She mulled over it for a moment. The doctors had in fact said that due to his lungs' beating that for at least this day he shouldn't do anything too strenuous. That axed going outside or doing something active in the loft. There were only two of them, so that axed any group thing. _

_ "Well," she started, "We could watch a movie."_

_ "I'm game," he said, nodding, "What do you want to watch?"_

_ "You're the injured one here," she pointed out, "You choose."_

_ "How about Forbidden Planet?" he asked, "I have the DVD. It's on that shelf under the TV."_

_ Before he had even finished speaking she had gotten up and knelt down by his DVD collection. What. She'd been to his loft plenty and she was a detail oriented detective. It was her job to notice things like that, where things were. Once she'd been at a location enough she could tell you where everything from the plates to the phone chargers were. She flipped through the extensive collection, slightly awed by the sheer amount of movies the family owned. It was pretty astounding, to say the least. They had movies spanning a huge range of genres and time periods. She eventually found the DVD squashed between Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part Two and a Twilight movie. Harry Potter, Forbidden Planet and Twilight next to each other? What was this man thinking? She shook her head, yanking out the Forbidden Planet DVD. _

_ "You like Twilight?" she said, amused, turning back to where was sitting._

_ "What? No!" he said, indignant, "That's Alexis's."_

_ "Whatever you say Castle," she teased, smirking as she placed Forbidden Planet into his DVD player._

_ "I swear," he protested, "It isn't mine."  
>"Well technically by extension it's yours even if your daughter owns it," she pointed out, walking back towards him as the menu flared up on the screen, "Do you want to me to make popcorn or something?"<em>

_ "That would be awesome," he said, smiling, "Best nanny ever."_

_ "Call me a nanny again and I'll break both your legs," she said, smiling back as she walked out of the room. The last time she'd said that line it had been about being a muse… funny how things changed. Being his muse now was… it was just another aspect to what they were. It was a part of her. And hey, now she could finally see the flattery in it, she could finally see past the endless layers of irritation caused by it._

_ She walked into his kitchen and hunted around in his cabinets, eventually finding a package of extra butter microwave popcorn. Why was she surprised? She shook her head and popped it into the microwave, inputting the time into it. She leant against the counter, staring at the slowly ticking down digital numbers mindlessly. It passed forty-seven seconds and she drew a sharp breath. Forty seven. That many seconds had led to five people's deaths a month ago, which led to her secret reveal, which in turn led to this. Just forty seven seconds made all the difference, countless lives were changed for good. A husband lost, a love reinforced, siblings, children, friends lost and found… Just showed that everything made a difference._

_She stared at the microwave numbers blankly once more, milling over the idea for a moment, and soon enough the appliance was beeping. Taking down a large bowl, she opened the microwave up and drew out the scalding bag. Almost dropping it after it burnt her fingers, she opened it and dumped its bright yellow contents into the bowl. On a whim, she dug around for a pack of MnM's she'd spotted in the cabinets earlier and filled a smaller bowl with them, akin to the one on her desk. Walking and balancing the smaller bowl on top of the popcorn, she returned to the office._

_ "I bring food," she announced, putting down the bowls on top of Rick's legs and plopping down alongside him. _

_ "My favorite," he said, smiling as she grabbed the remote out of his hands. She pressed play and they were soon swept up into a world of space and fantasy and classic on screen magic. The movie was honestly one of her favorite movies of all time. Her father had introduced it to her one night when she was fairly young, maybe only nine or ten. She'd loved it ever since._

_ She mouthed the lines to the movie, catching him smiling at her as she did so more than once. He was mouthing the words too. _

_ When the tiger jumped out, interrupting Altaira and Adams's kiss she turned to look at him as he did as well, eyes locking. At the same time they both started to just laugh and laugh and laugh. She paused the movie in a more coherent moment so they wouldn't miss the rest of the movie laughing over tigers._

_ "What is it with tigers?" he said. _

_ "I don't know," she said, coughing as her laughter subsided, "They just love to interrupt everything I suppose."_

_"Pity we didn't have a blaster when we had to deal with our tiger," he huffed, "Would've made that whole situation easier on us." _

_ "Where would the fun be in that?" she said._

_ "Having a blaster and disintegrating the tiger? Come on Kate, that's just cool in and of itself. Haven't you ever wanted to fire one of those? Just annihilate whatever you shot immediately?" he said gleefully, "I know as soon as they invent one I'm buying it."_

_ "Of course you are," she laughed, "And… maybe I did. I may or may not have run around with a toy one when I was little."_

_ He grinned, "Oh I'd love to see pictures of that…"_

_ "Yeah well there aren't any," she said. Okay, that was a slight lie. There was one picture, but it was stashed in her father's cabin somewhere where nobody would ever find it ever again. _

_ "But I can imagine there are stories at least," he said._

_ Oh yes, there were stories all right. Stories she never wanted anyone else to hear, ever. Stories, the most notable involving her plastic blaster, her mother's china, and a very small dog, that she would never hear the end of if he heard them. A flash of inspiration crossed his face._

_ "I'll ask your dad," he said._

_ "I don't think my dad would tell you, Rick," she said, shrugging, "He knows better. And isn't that kind of an awkward question to ask? Hey Mr. Beckett, can you tell me stories of Kate running around with a plastic toy blaster when she was younger?"_

_ He laughed, saying "I'll think of something. But even if we don't have blasters I think I have a suitable replacement for us to relive those childhood stories, Kate. I have laser tag guns and vests and I fully expect you to play me in that as soon as I'm able to. I'll kick your ass in it."_

_ "Bring. It. On," she said, leaning closer, "Though I'll obviously win because I'm the one trained heavily in gun combat. You don't stand a chance."_

_ "Au contraire, Kate," he said, lifting a finger, "I know all of the hiding spots in this apartment."_

_ "We'll see who's the best here later," she said, "But I still bet I'll beat you. We have a movie to get back to."_

_"I bet I'll beat you first," he muttered. She rolled her eyes, curling into his side. She pressed play._

_ At the first real sighting of the Id monster, where it actually appeared on screen, Castle literally screamed. It was a higher pitched noise than she could likely make if she tried. The popcorn bowl, previously on his lap, went flying, strewing popcorn all over the floor. She gave him one look before bursting into laughter._

_ "It's not funny Kate," he said, pouting, "It's scary. It's scared me since I was little."_

_ "Oh, Mister Master of the Macabre is scared of the animated Id monster?" she teased, smiling before realizing something and stopping, "Wait… since you were little? I thought you said you'd never seen it before that time I took you to see it at the Angelika!"_

_ "Surprise?" he said with a sheepish grin._

_ "Lemme guess, you just said that to see a movie with me," she said, giving him a look._

_ "Might've," he said, "You can't prove anything."_

_ "Well then I'll just have to procure a confession," she said, picking up a pillow and descending upon him with it, whacking him with it repeatedly._

_ "I'll never say anything!" he said whilst laughing._

_ "All right then," she said, stopping suddenly and smiling wickedly, "I'll just have to put you in holdings for a good long time then, see what that does to your little refusal to talk…"_

_ "I don't know Detective," he said, face lighting up, "Will there be handcuffs involved?"_

_ "Oh no," she said, shaking her head and playing along just for the sheer fun of it, "That's only for the good criminals who confess to their crimes."_

_"Well then I confess," he said, smiling, "Yes, I did do it just to convince you to see the movie with me."_

_ "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Castle," she said, maneuvering off of his lap (when had she gotten there?) and onto the couch once more, "It is much appreciated."_

_ "What's my punishment?" he asked as she pressed play._

_ "That will come eventually," she said softly, "Right now it's movie time."_

_ "Cruel woman," he muttered, sitting disgruntled back onto the couch. She looked over at him, leaning over to whisper into his ear._

_ "But, as an early punishment… you're the one who's cleaning up the popcorn."_

She came back out of her memory smiling. The man she'd been in the memory with was looking at her oddly.

"You okay?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine," she said, "Just… remembering."

He nodded as a loud crash sounded from outside their little sanctuary. His head fell onto one of his palms.

"I don't even want to know," he sighed as she began to ask if he wanted to go check on that.

"Guessing it happens a lot when she's rehearsing here?" she asked.

"You weren't here when she was doing the Tempest," he grimaced, "Don't think the electricity in this house was ever the same since."

She laughed, "That bad, huh?"

"Yeah. She flooded her acting studio doing the scene she later rehearsed here. And since that scene would _obviously_ work so much better here she did it in the living room," he sighed. She took his hand, lifting it up and dropping it the way she'd done all that time ago while they had watched his mom's one woman play. A lot had changed since then, but the feeling behind the gesture was still the same.

"So, what's the plan for today?" she asked after a moment, "It's the last day I'm being forced into entertaining you by you. Better make the most of it, Rick."

"You're the one who's supposed to make the plans," he said.

"You're the one forcing me into staying here and making plans," she countered.

"Touché," he said, "To be honest, most of the fun stuff is trapped in enemy territory."

"We could always go watch your mother's production," she suggested.

"Anything but that," he groaned, "That and writing. Definitely not writing."

"Well we could watch another movie, unless your mother is taxing the power supply," she said. As if in answer to her question the lights flickered a bit above them, dying for a split second before coming back up.

"So, not a movie," she said, biting her lip. He looked at her, seeming to expect her to come up with something. Problem was her mind was completely blank. Not being able to use anything involving electricity? That proved thinking of something difficult. She glanced around the room, her wandering eyes stopping on the shelves and shelves of books lining the walls of the office. An idea hit her, but no… it would be stupid and fangirl-y and just really, really stupid. Stupid and pathetic and just…

"You think of something?" he said, and she turned back around to face him.

"Yes, but it'll make me seem really, really pathetic. Even more than I've been for letting you force me into visiting every day," she said.

"I doubt anything you do can make you seem stupid," he said, "And hey, anything you can come up with is better than any idea of mine."

She rolled her eyes before continuing, "Anyway. It will make me seem pathetic and only succeed in feeding your ego if we do it, and your ego doesn't need any more feeding."

"Oh, now I really want to hear it," he said, grinning as she glared, "Please do tell."

"It's really embarrassing," she said, laughing a bit, "Really we can do something else…"

"I love it when you embarrass yourself," he said, answered by another glare, "And anyway I can't come up with anything at all and doing something is better than nothing."

She sighed and looked down. She should tell him, embarrassing as her request was. And hey, it was also something her mom had always wanted to have done while she was alive. Not with Castle, but she wanted to do it with her favorite authors, and in a way she was living her mom's dream if she told him. She liked to think that her mother was watching this from wherever she was and would enjoy it too.

"This stems from something my mom used to always want," she said softly, and his hand squeezed hers gently as if to support her as he spoke of her mom, "Not with you but… I'm actually pretty sure she secretly read your books after stealing them from a fourteen, fifteen year old me."

"You read them when you were that young?" he said in awe, "You really are a super fan!"

"Shush," she said, blushing, "And yeah truth be told I followed you since your first book. Can I get back to the story?"

"Of course," he said, "You are such a fangirl…"

She glared at him and he shut up again. She continued, "But yeah. She used to always say that one of her goals, an item on her bucket list was to have one of her favorite authors read one of her favorite books of theirs to her privately…"

The man across from her seemed to stop and contemplate what she had just said for a moment before his face brightened with realization.

"You want me to read one of my books to you?" he said excitedly.

She nodded, biting her lip and looking down. Oh god, had she really just asked him to read one of his books to her? She had. And you know what? She honestly regretted nothing. They were partners in every sense of the word. She was allowed to ask stuff like that, let him know that she was a mega fan of his books. The I-love-you's, the loving, the kissing, the sharing, the life… it would take a long time for that to meld into their normal for her. She peered up at him through her eyelashes, seeing him beaming before bounding off to his bookcase.

"You know you could've just asked before," he said, flipping through the many novels on his shelves, "No need to feel embarrassed about that request. I'm flattered."

"Of course," she said, biting back a smile.

"Which book?" he asked, looking back at her over his shoulder, "An early work? Ach, actually don't choose one of those I can hardly bear to read some of them. There's a reason I was shocked that the serial case that brought us together was based off of them. They are honestly just such inferior works… then there's Storm. And oh! Let's not forget Nikki Heat herself in all of her glory. Truly my best works you know… but it's okay if you don't want to read about your alter ego-"  
>"Okay Castle we can read a Nikki Heat book if you want to so badly," she interrupted, smiling, "How about <em>Heat Wave<em>?"

"Sure," he said, drawing the hardcover out of the overcrowded shelf and plopping down onto his chair, opening it up to the first page, "Shall we?"

She nodded, biting into her lip again. God, she was surprised it hadn't started to bleed yet. He smiled at her with that hopelessly in love look and began to read in that smooth and luxurious voice of his.

"Heat Wave, by Richard Castle. Dedicated to the extraordinary KB and all my friends at the 12th. Chapter One. It was always the same for her when she arrived to meet the body. After she unbuckled her seat belt, after she pulled a stick pen from the rubber band on the sun visor, after her long fingers brushed her hip to feel the comfort of her service piece, what she always did was pause. Not long. Just the length of a slow deep breath. That's all it took for her to remember the one thing she will never forget. A new body waited. She drew the breath. And when she could feel the raw edges of the hole that had been blown in her life, Detective Nikki Heat was ready…"

She sat in her chair, entranced by the sound of his rich and admittedly sexy voice. Unfortunately he had to go and break it, pausing for a moment and considering her when he reached the first bit of dialogue.

"What is it Castle?" she asked after he had stared at her for an awkwardly long period of time.

"…can you read her lines?" he said, "Nikki's?"

"Way to break the moment, Castle," she chastised, blinking out of her tranquil state she'd been lulled into by even just the few paragraphs of story, "And no Castle, not happening."

"Please?" he said, big blue eyes staring at her, "I'll love you forever if you do it."

"I thought we already agreed to the forever," she joked, matching luminous smiles growing on their faces.

"All right, bad choice of saying," he said, "But please?"

Oh god he was giving her that puppy dog look again. She could just not resist that look. She attempted to break it with a glare but it was no use, the puppy-dog-ness was far too strong. She sighed loudly, shoving her chair closer so she could look at the book over his shoulder.

"Make you a deal," she said, pursing her lips at a giddy Castle, "I'll watch my ass, you watch the crowd…"

Time passed quickly between the two of them. They actually got pretty into it, surprisingly enough. Their little pseudo-reading became of utmost importance in their little world. They bickered over who would be Raley, Ochoa, Lauren, even certain suspects and witnesses. Castle had insisted on doing Raley (he won that squabble) with an Irish accent, as that was apparently his "artistic vision" for the character. She'd rolled her eyes and kept reading.

Almost as if on cue when they reached page 100 or so, the lights flickered and dimmed significantly in the office, though the living room lights as seen under the door were still at full blast. She shot him a glare.

"What? I did not plan this if that's what you think," he said, throwing his hands up in surrender, "I swear."

She gave him another look, one of many she'd shot him during the reading and turned back to the text. Soon enough they reached the two pages right before things got hot on the infamous page 105, and he drew out a bottle of tequila from a drawer in his desk, followed by two shot glasses.

"You been preparing for this or something, Castle?" she asked.

"…and if I was?" he asked, "At least I don't have the salt and lime and everything in the book. That would be a little weird."

"And you having tequila in your writing desk isn't weird?" she said, throwing back the shot he gave her anyway. Whew. The sun was still up and she was already onto tequila. Oh boy. It would all be his fault if she couldn't stand straight tomorrow at work.

"No," he said, downing his own shot, "It's proven a very good remedy for writer's block."

"That explains a lot about your books," she said as he frowned, "Anyway, where were we?"

He narrowed his eyes at her before turning back to the text. Soon enough they themselves were tentatively, slowly drawing an inch closer. The book lay discarded on his large desk. She found herself maneuvering onto his lap, drawn into just… everything. And really, it was about time, as Lanie would've said. Four years of waiting, of pushing off for another time, of lies and arguments. It was here, the moment was finally here. Their lips crashed together, desperately trying to achieve some closeness that couldn't possibly be possible. Suddenly, something occurred to her and she pulled away gently from the searing kiss.

"Castle, your mother, door, not soundproof," she said breathily, his eyes widening. She got off of him and he locked the office door. He took her hand gently and they walked into his bedroom side by side. He locked that door behind them as well, turning on the dim lights. They rejoined, and her mind was still in disbelief even as the fire between them threatened to consume them both. This was happening. This was real…

Some time later she blinked sleepy, sated eyes at the wonderful man lying beside her in his huge bed.

"Did that really just happen?" she said softly, his fingers tracing familiar patterns that seemed like they should make sense to her, but patterns her brain was refusing to understand, on her arms, shoulders, back, everywhere he could reach. She drew in a shuddering breath, followed by a content sigh as his hands continued to trace feather light patterns everywhere.

"I can't believe it either," he said, "That was just so… mindblowing. But yeah, unless I'm asleep and none of this has happened this is real. Magnificent and real."

She drew a deep breath, "That was amazing."

"Amazing might be an understatement," he said, "I can't think of words good enough to describe that."

What the patterns were that he was drawing on her skin finally came to her.

"Is that what you're drawing on me?" she asked, "Words? Unfinished word- oh, you just finished one. Extraordinary. Congratulations on finding a word."

They smiled, sharing a sweet kiss completely different from the intensity they'd just gone through.

"What time is it?" she asked after sharing a moment of just looking and being. He turned his head to peek at the clock on his bedside table.

"S'only 4:30 pm," he said with a chuckle, his chest rumbling against her, "You know, I always thought that when this happened it would be nighttime, after some fancy dinner or a night of me sweeping you off your feet. Not after reading a book in my office in the middle of the day while my mother rehearsed outside."

"That scenario would be far too normal," she said, shaking her head a bit, "Way too normal for us."

They lay there and stared at each other, perfectly content to just stay there for the rest of time, just taking in what had just happened. This had been happening a lot, the just thinking and absorbing and the being. Guess Nikki had a point there in the book about just wanting to be, it was… nice. No conspiracies or murders or gunmen. Just them. Why had they waited four years to do that? Stupid. Made her secret seem even stupider now.

"Richard? Kate? You in there?" they heard a faint voice call. They groaned, in sync even now.

"Yes, just a moment Mother," he hollered, both of them dragging themselves out of the sinfully comfortable bed and onto the ground. They hunted around for the randomly strewn clothing, pulling on pieces when they found them. After pulling her shirt over her mussed hair and after he pulled on his pants, they looked at each other once more.

"Not the ending you were expecting?" she said, smiling as she struggled to get her hair into some sort of order.

"Definitely not," he said, reaching for her hand.

"Ready to go back into enemy territory?" she said with a still dreamy smile, entwining her hand with his.

"Yes," he said. With that, they turned back towards his bedroom door to return to the world.


	4. Chapter 4

Oh my goodness guys I'm so sorry for the long wait for this chapter. :c Unfortunately I got smacked in the face with a ton of writer's block and schoolwork midweek when I was first attempting to write this, so it took a while to get this chapter going. Thankfully I finally broke the writer's block. I did change the description for this, as the old one didn't really seem to fit anymore. Again, thank you to everyone who's favorited, alerted, and especially reviewed! You have no idea how happy all of those make me. Please enjoy.

Disclaimer: I still don't have a witty way of saying that I don't own Castle... oh well...

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><p>Her phone was ringing.<p>

Oh god, why was her phone ringing.

She groped around the bedside table in the dark, fingers finally closing around the vibrating white iPhone. She squinted at the too bright screen. Two things were wrong with what she saw. A, it was six in the morning. B, it was Lanie Parish. That meant it wasn't a body call, like she'd been expecting. And a call from Lanie at this hour could only mean one thing considering the past couple of days.

"Who is it?" asked a tired Castle from beside her, good arm curling around her middle as she tried to sit up. His injured arm lay on a makeshift platform they'd devised last night out of random books and things lying around his room and office. That had been an interesting moment for them to say the least…

"Lanie," she sighed, "She's going to kill me."

"Why is she going to kill you?" he asked, blinking at the screen from beside her.

"Because I haven't talked to her in three days and she isn't filled in on the new status of us," she said, "You ready for screeching? Actually, it's probably better that I take this outside."

He pouted at her but she pried herself from his all-too-tempting embrace, dragging herself into his office. Shutting the door behind her she readied herself. Was she ready for the onslaught? No, she wasn't. Regardless and against her better judgment she answered it with a tired "Beckett."

"Girl!" screeched Lanie on the other end of the phone as she rapidly pulled the phone far away from her ear. How could anyone manage that pitch this early in the morning? The answer still evaded her. She wasn't even sure she could manage that ear-shattering pitch even if she tried. Lanie continued, "Why have you not called me all weekend and failed to fill me in on this new… whatever, development between you and Writer Boy?"

"Geesh, Lanie, thanks for the wakeup call," she grumbled, placing the phone near her ear tentatively.

"Sorry," said her friend, not sounding sorry at all, "Tried to wait until later but with everything I've heard over the past few days? I was not about to wait. But seriously, Kate. Details, now."

"Heard what from who?" she asked, trying to piece it together in her weary mind.

"Let's just say a little bird might've told me that you and Writer Boy are finally together-together now, not that weird sort of together you've been over the past couple of weeks. And that you may or may not have consummated said relationship. Care to explain?"

"Let me guess," she sighed, "The boys? Oh wait, not the boys, they wouldn't have known anything… oh god, Alexis? She didn't… we didn't…"

"You haven't scarred the girl for life yet, don't panic," reassured Lanie, "And… oh my god you did! You so did! Even though his arm's busted? How was it?"

Was she seriously talking about this at six in the morning? She was. The memories began to resurface and she smiled, reminding herself to be open with this, with it all, "It… It was… It was amazing, Lanie. Everything was just amazing, even with his smashed up arm. I… god, what is it going to be like with his arm whole and healthy? Do I sound like an eighteen year old or what? But anyway. It was just such a wonderful weekend with all of them and I… Lanie, I don't even have words for it."

"I am so happy for you," said Lanie, "You sound happier than you have in months. Hell, happier than you have been since before last year's insanity."

"I know," she said softly, "And it's just… the secret blowup still hangs over it all, you know? It's there and… and the trust issues are still there. But everything else just overwhelms that bit of darkness. And things are still going to need to time to sort out. We haven't really had any serious talks since… since really the day he got home from the hospital."

"Still some things you have to sort out?" said Lanie sympathetically, "I can imagine you two have a lot to talk about."

"Staggering amount of things we have to talk about," she said, sighing.

"Just make sure you talk about them before moving on, don't want you to end up like Esposito and I," said Lanie.

"What did you guys not talk about?" she said, curious.

"A lot of things," said her friend wistfully, "We didn't talk about a lot of things. It was never a really… deep relationship, really. We didn't have a lot of serious talks, especially about what we wanted, you know? And you know how I am with getting married.

"Yeah, yeah I know," said Kate.

"But enough about me," said Lanie, "I know I am making sure you two get your happy ending even if you break apart again."

"Do I need to worry about you locking us in a closet if something were to break us apart again?" she said.

"That actually sounds like a good plan," said Lanie, her smile almost coming through the phone, "Thanks for the idea, Kate. It would prevent the boys from interrupting too."

"Great," she groaned, "Just don't put a tiger in there or something if you ever do that. But it'll take a lot, a lot to pull us apart now I hope…"

"But anyway girl enough about the negative side of relationships," said Lanie, "We need to talk, go out for a drink or something. I want to know all about what's happened since you started to neglect me in the Castle-and-you department. And I mean everything."

"Of course," said Beckett, now fully awake.

"I need to hear the story in full," repeated Lanie, "Especially cause I need to know how the hell I lost the betting pool on you weirdos."

"What betting pool?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. A betting pool? On them? Seriously? No, oh no, no way. She guessed she shouldn't be surprised, this precinct could bet on anything plus it was a total gossip hub. Honestly sometimes the precinct was worse than a bunch of teenage girls. But honestly, a betting pool on her and Castle? Really? How long had this been going on exactly?

"What's that? Oh I got to go, crime scene, you should be hearing about this one soon. Bye," said Lanie hurriedly.

"Bye?" she said as Lanie hung up. Lanie wasn't going to be the only one questioning later. She sighed, holding her phone as she awaited the call about the body Lanie was at. She leant against the side of his huge desk, staring at the dark faux murder board screen on the wall. Castle had upgraded it since the last time she'd seen it, moved it too. Three years since she first saw the original plans for the Heat Wave case on it. A lot had changed since that night, so very, very much. She was tempted to go over and see what he was working on for the new book but was interrupted.

"Hey," said Castle from his bedroom doorway. She turned to face him.

"Hey," she said.

"Hope Lanie didn't murder you over the phone about the amazing weekend we had?" he asked, a too-knowing smile on his face. She considered him for a moment. Aha! There was his tell, he always did that when he was lying. That liar.

"You were eavesdropping," she said, blinking at him, "Weren't you?"

"How do you do that?" he huffed, walking over to her. His good arm curled around her waist hesitantly and she leant against his broad chest, content.

"You're a pretty bad liar, Rick," she said quietly, turning her head up and back to meet his eyes. He drew a quick breath. The mention of lies still did that? It would be a while before that wound healed, wouldn't it. But with time it would heal so long as nothing reopened it. There wasn't anything else to reopen it though between them anymore unless her mom's case flared up again. But there… there was no reason for it to. She was healing, she was recovering, she'd get to a point where it wouldn't consume her life anymore. It would heal over.

"Yeah," he said, "You got a body?"

She nodded, "Should be getting the call soon."

"Wish I could go," he sighed, "Or even better, you could just stay here all day with me."

"You know I'd go crazy, Rick," she said, reaching up to run a hand through his stubble, "And while I've had a good, great time this weekend I'll go nuts if I don't get back to work soon."

As if on cue her phone started to ring again. She looked down to check who was calling. It was Esposito. Pulling away from Rick's arms for a moment she pulled the phone up to her ear.

"Beckett," she said.

"Hey," said Esposito, "We got a fresh one."

"Address?" she asked, snatching a pen and paper off of Castle's desk.

"Central Park, a field off of the northwest corner of the Great Lawn," he said, "Uniforms will show you once you get there."

"All right. Meet you there soon," she said.

"Unless of course you're too busy this morning boss," he said teasingly, "Wouldn't want to interrupt your morning at the Castle loft."

"Let me guess, Lanie?" she sighed, "And you aren't interrupting anything thank you very much. I'll see you there. Try to grow up by the time I get there."

She hung up as her teammate said goodbye, placing the phone down with a huff.

"Boys teasing already?" he asked with a smile.

"Yeah," she said, "This will be a fun day."

She walked into his bedroom, shrugging off Castle's shirt. What? Too cliché? Unfortunately they'd been a little… zealous the other day with her own shirt.

_They turned towards each other, doing one last check-over before they went out to face his family. She saw his eyebrows rise before he broke into fits of laughter. _

_ "What?" she said, "What is it?"_

_ "Uhh… we may have been a little aggressive when it came to your shirt," he said, gesturing at her chest with a cough. She looked down and groaned. At least four buttons were missing, leaving the front gaping open. Really? How had she managed to miss that when she'd been putting the shirt back on?_

_ "When did that even happen?" she said with a sigh, turning back towards his bedroom._

_ "I have no idea," he answered, jogging up to catch up to her._

_ "What do you think would be more suspicious," she said, walking towards his cabinet, "Us taking who knows how long it will take to find those buttons and reattach them, or me wearing one of your shirts a la the cliché?" _

_ "Can you sow?" he asked, "I can't, so if you can't even if we did manage to find the buttons quickly we wouldn't be able to get them back onto your shirt."_

_ "I can't," she confessed, "My mom tried to teach me once but… it did not end well. Ended up with more blood than stitches and the ones that were there were extremely sloppy."_

_ "Guess we're going for the cliché then," he said, passing her to rummage in his dresser._

_ "Unfortunately that seems to be the only option," she said, "Just try and think of something to tell your mom and Alexis, kay?"_

_ "We're already deep into this if we go outside this room at all," he said, flinging a smile back her way, "And all the girls of the Castle clan are all highly perceptive. This delay is already suspicious."_

_ She sighed, shucking her ruined shirt, "Yeah but… just try and think of something to save at least a bit of our dignity."_

_ "Yes ma'am," he said and she glared at the back of his head. She crossed her arms and waited. God, how many shirts did this man own? Such a metrosexual sometimes. He finally stood up and tossed her a classy purple buttondown that was a similar shade to what she'd been wearing earlier. His eyes darkened a few shades at the sight of her shirtless state and she smiled a bit._

_ "It's small on me," he managed to get out, "So it should fit you a bit better than anything else."_

_ She pulled on the shirt with a devilish grin as he frowned at her, the smell of him surrounding her as the shirt settled onto her body. It was huge on her, but it was better than flashing his family. _

_ "Castle, you got scissors in here?" she asked. The shirt was too long to tuck in and if it was shorter she could at least keep somewhat of a decent look about her. _

_ "Yeah," he said, disappearing into his office and reappearing seconds later with a bright orange pair of scissors, "Are you going to cut it?"_

_ "If it's okay with you," she said, "It'll look better that way and who knows, maybe your family won't notice."_

_ "You look great in my shirt," he huffed, silenced by a glare._

_ "Thank you, Castle, but I was thinking about Alexis. Do we really need to scar her that much?" she said, "Chances are the poor girl is already scarred, but you know…"_

_ "Point taken," he sighed._

_ She looked at the pair of scissors in his hands before asking, "Can you cut a straight line?"_

_ "Can't promise anything, but I can try," he said, shrugging and pulling the shirt down. He took an experimental snip at the fabric before going all the way around. She worked a little magic that many a girl learns at some point in their lives, oftentimes over summer vacation, and the shirt actually looked decent. There was a huge grin on his face when she looked back up at him._

_ "What?" she said, narrowing her eyes._

_ "I just literally cut the clothes off of you," he said, grin widening._

_ She shot him a look, "That's what you're focusing on right now?'_

_ "Sorry, sorry," he said unapologetically._

_ "Do I look okay?" she asked, looking down at her makeshift top tailoring. Absentmindedly she ran a hand through her hopelessly mussed hair. That would never untangle here… oh well, some things can't be helped._

_ "You always look okay."_

_"Castle."_

_ "Sorry, you look fine," he said. They turned to leave. Opening the office door they blinked at the blindingly bright lights of the surprisingly normal looking living room, free from acting students and Hamlet sets._

_ An amused looking Martha stood in front of them, "You two certainly took your time…"_

_ "You needed us, Mother?" he said._

_ "Well looking at the state of you two perhaps I shouldn't have called at all," she said, "Hope I didn't _interrupt _anything…"_

_ "Oh no Martha it's fine," said Kate, "We were just… talking."_

_ And the worst cover ever award goes to her. Though she supposed it was technically true. When the older woman had called for them they had in fact been talking. Just not the period of time before that…_

_ "Ah, I see," said Martha, that all-knowing smile on her face, "I was just going to ask you kids if you were hungry and if I should order something. Richard didn't seem in the mood to cook with you around Kate, and I must rush off tonight to go see a dear friend of mine in a Broadway premiere, no time for me to cook."_

_ "I'm starved," he said, and she nodded, "Talking was very strenuous."_

_ Kate glared at him and Martha smiled, saying, "I'll just go and order Italian, leave you two alone. Nice shirt, Kate."_

_ "Told you she'd notice," he whispered and she glared at him._

"_It was a small hope, at least. But as for you, great job at hiding it," she hissed as Martha disappeared from sight._

_ "You're the one who said we were talking," he said matter-of-factly._

_ "And you said talking was strenuous!"_

_ "What else was I supposed to say?"_

_ "I don't know, you're the writer, you come up with a better story."_

_ "You're the detective, you come up with a better alibi. You've heard plenty."_

_ She narrowed her eyes at him and he smiled once more. She sighed, "Guess we both failed a bit there. You weren't hiding your 'oh snap, I just got _laid_' voice very well."_

_ "That's not my fault," he protested, "It's just that what we just was… was…"_

_ "I know," she interrupted, "I know."_

_ "And I can hide that face," he said, "But not after that. Doubt I ever will with you."_

_ "You couldn't hide it very well with that actress a few years ago," she pointed out. _

_ "I was young then," he said._

_ "Oh, so you're old now?"_

_ "Yes!"_

_"Old man."_

_ "Shut up."_

_ "You had that one coming," she said, pecking at his lips, "Old man."_

She shook her head, pulling out the extra shirt she'd had in her bag. Before she'd eaten with the Castle Clan she'd returned to her loft to pick up a few things. She hoped that Alexis wasn't too scarred from her staying over that night, though Lanie said the teen was pretty levelheaded about it. Seen enough cases like her come and go? But… she was different. And way to be humble, Kate. She pulled off the sweats she'd put on last night and felt a familiar presence press against her back.

"Not now, Rick," she said, not even turning around to see who it was, "The boys do not need any more fodder. Showing up late would definitely be cause for merciless teasing later, which I'd blame wholly on you. And trust me, you don't want that."

He grumbled behind her and she pulled on the jeans she'd packed. Not a perfect work look, but it would suffice. As for her hair… that was just going to have to go up or into a braid or something. Down was not going to work today.

"If you want to be helpful," she said, still not facing him, "Go make me a coffee."

"Fine, Miss Demanding," he mumbled, and she heard him leave the room. She walked into his bathroom, makeup case in hand. Pulling the bathroom door shut behind her, she took a moment to just gape at his bathroom. Damn, Rick. A swimming pool of a bathtub took up most of one corner, a shower on the other. Impressive. She walked over to the sink and mirror. Wow, did she look like a hag this morning or what?

Shaking her head she wiped off the various makeup stains accumulated over the past night and afternoon. She quickly did up her eyes and face, pulling her unruly hair into a loose ponytail. There, as presentable as she'd be today. She was going back to work, finally. Back to work as Castle's… Castle's… girlfriend? No, that wasn't right. That sounded like they were lovesick teenagers or college kids or something, and even though he made her feel that way sometimes that was not what their relationship was. This was so much more than that. Going back as his partner? Yes, that was as right as you could get without making up a new word. Partners it was.

She left his ridiculous bathroom, pulling on the boots she'd worn to the loft. Now several inches taller, she snatched up her bag and meandered into the kitchen. She'd have to stuff the bag into one of her desk drawers or something at the precinct… joy. Spotting Castle leaning against the counter with a travel mug in hand, she walked over to him. He handed it to her.

"Thanks," she said with a smile. They walked together to the closet and he helped her into her coat.

"We'll… talk later?" she said hesitantly, eyes searching his for something. She wasn't quite sure what exactly she was looking for, but the earnest gaze and sheer love in the blue depths satisfied that hunt.

"Sure," he said, "Call me?"

"Okay," she said with a nod, "I might get stolen away by Lanie tonight for some girl time, but I'll be sure to call."

He nodded slowly, that shadow of distrust, that smidge of insecurity still in his eyes. She'd have to make certain she called. She couldn't forget, she wouldn't forget. He moved his injured arm out of the way and kissed her softly.

"Talk to you later," she said quietly, pulling away gently, "I'll be sure to tell you all about the case."

He nodded, "Hope you have a good story to tell me."

"I'm sure I will," she said, "Bye, Rick."

"Bye, Kate."

She smiled and left his loft, the door closing behind her with a dull thud. She walked onto his elevator, watching the numbers going down and sipping her coffee. Someday they'd be going to the precinct from here together. Someday that would be the routine. Someday one of them might have to stay at the loft to watch a child… whoa there Kate, don't get too engrossed in an imaginary future there. The very thought was frightening and exciting all at once to her though. It was a distinct possibility, one that she… she truly hoped would happen, someday. If they made it. Who was she kidding, they'd make it as long as they both lived. It would take a firebreathing dragon or worse to pull them apart now.

.

She pulled up to the park in her cruiser, parking it and stepping out. Contrary to what Castle seemed to think about her having a crime scene ritual as Nikki did in _Heat Wave_, she didn't have one. She didn't have to think to get back to that day, to bring her mind back to her mom's crime scene. The onslaught of questions likely coming at the crime scene from a certain ME might take some preparation though. Lanie was going to kill her. The boys would act like annoying little immature brothers as usual. Gates would probably disapprove of everything. It'd be just another day at the 12th.

A uniform pointed her to the body where it lay strewn on top of a park bench. Lanie was kneeling alongside it with a clipboard and from the looks of things the boys were talking to some homeless guys nearby, including their longtime friend Westside Wally. Him again? Did he attract homicides or something? She shook her head and walked over to Lanie.

"Hey Lanie," she said, the ME looking up at her, "What happened?"

"Hey woman of the hour," said Lanie, "You tell me what happened."

"I meant to the victim," she sighed.

"Fine, though you are not off the hook by a long shot," said Lanie, turning back to the dead body on the bench, "Single GSW to the chest, looks like a large caliber gun did this. I can't tell you exactly what kind of gun until I get her back to the lab. There's bruising along her ribs and collarbone but it looks at least a day old, not at the same time as the murder. Time of death would be between one and three am."

"Was it a sexual assault?" she asked, kneeling down to get a better look at a bizarre message on the victim's forehead.

"Can't know until I get her to the lab," said Lanie, "But she still had her phone and wallet, wasn't a robbery. Boys can tell you more about it."

"What's that across her forehead?" asked Beckett, peering at the message which was mostly obscured by the victim's mass of dark brown curls.

"A message in what looks like the victim's blood," said Lanie, pulling back the woman's hair.

"Literature Bitch?" she said, raising an eyebrow, "Guess that rules out a drug hit. Who was she?"

"I can tell you that," said Esposito, walking up beside them, "Glad you could make it, Beckett. Hope we didn't interrupt any morning workouts."

She glared at him, "Who is she?"

"Allegra Sterling, 26," he said, passing her the wallet with ID and work card, "Fairly fresh literature critic at the Ledger. Apparently she's known for harsh and bitter reviews according to our resident newspaper-culture expert Ryan."

"That gives us a lot of enemies to look at," she said. Esposito nodded.

"Yeah. Some guys camped out near here last night including our old bud Westside all claim they didn't hear a gunshot," he said.

"So the killer used a silencer," she said, met by another nod, "She got next of kin?"

"Um yeah," he said, "A mother named Kimberly Sterling and a younger sister, Lauren Ellie Sterling."

"Alright," she said, "I'm going to go contact next of kin. Esposito, why don't you and Ryan go out and check out her workplace. I want to know if there were any tensions there lately that might've gotten her killed."

"As you wish," said Esposito, turning off to fetch Ryan. Lanie looked at her.

"We'll talk later," Beckett said, "Catch a drink after work?"

"Sure," said Lanie, "And I want the entire story."

She nodded, flipping around to head back to her cruiser alone. There was something depressing about not having Rick there with her. But it was almost for the better. If he was there, she wasn't sure she could hold up against the endless innuendos and temptation.

The whiteboard was depressing. It was covered over in false leads and dead ends by the time night fell, and there was no concrete lead in sight. Their main suspect had been Shawn Kallister, an intern at the Ledger who had started working there before their victim, and who their victim had just gotten a promotion over. He had the motive, but he had a rock solid alibi for the night. They were looking at the authors the victim had crushed recently, but it would take time to figure out who had the opportunity and means to pull it off.

She glanced at the time. It was already seven o'clock, she should get going. The author report wouldn't be in until the morning, and she had a night out to be getting to. She got up, pulling her coat on and grabbing the overnight bag still stashed in her drawer.

"Clocking out already, boss?" asked Ryan, who was busy slaving over traffic cam recordings and other security camera videos in the general area where their vic had been killed.

"I've got plans," she said with a shrug.

"Plans with a certain writer?" he said, sharing a glance with Esposito before smiling.

"No," she said firmly, "Lanie, actually."

Her boys looked a little crestfallen at her statement and she couldn't help but smile a bit. She continued, "See you guys tomorrow."

"See you, Beckett."

She headed down the elevator to the lobby, spotting Lanie near the doorway.

"Took you long enough," said Lanie with a sigh, "You guys get a new lead or something?"

"No," said Beckett, "Still just a bunch of dead ends."

"I'm sure you guys will catch a break soon," said Lanie, "You still up for a night out?"

"Think it's exactly what I need, actually," she said. Lanie nodded and they turned down the street towards the bar they always had these girl nights at. They grabbed drinks and headed over to the corner booth they usually sat at.

"So Kate," said Lanie, "Details. Now."

"I don't really know where to start," she said, sipping the sangria she'd gotten. Odd for her, getting such a 'girly' drink, but she was not in the mood for beer or straight up vodka or something like that right now, "A lot's happened. And I mean a lot… it's weird though, it feels like nothing's changed at the same time, you know? It's… it's weird."

"You two have always been weird," said Lanie, brushing it off, "How about you start with the hospital? We talked about everything before that already. Don't you dare leave anything out."

She took a deep breath. Everything? Everything. She started, "Well it started when his family left us alone in his hospital room…"

A few minutes of storytelling later, she found herself at the day before.

"And… god Lanie, this is embarrassing, but I recommended he read one of his books to me…"

"You did what?" exclaimed Lanie with a laugh, "Really? Did he tease you about the sheer amount of fangirl you've got going on?"

"Like there was no tomorrow," she said, rolling her eyes, "But he also then harassed me until I read Nikki's lines and one thing led to another and at some point we hit page 105… and it was just... I still can't describe what followed that."

"Even though he could only use one arm?" said Lanie, eyes wide.

"Yes," she breathed, "He lived up to his reputation, that's for sure."

"I'm so happy for you, girl," said Lanie, "For both of you. And proud of you, too."

"Is that just cause of this apparently precinct-wide betting pool on us or because you're happy for your friends?" she said, raising an eyebrow. She'd done a bit of detective work in the precinct today and caught what must have been half the precinct shuffling money around in a back room. Honestly, did they have no cases, have nothing better to be doing? Her team definitely did have something better to be doing… such as the newest homicide case which was going fast to nowhere.

"Okay Kate, that pool didn't even go to any of us before you start killing people," she said, "The person who ended up closest, actually almost right on the date was… gosh, Kate, you have no idea how sad this was when we realized this…"

"Lanie, who was it?" she asked, slowly putting the pieces together right as she said the name.

"It was Montgomery," said Lanie.

"Oh…" she said. Montgomery. There was something just so profoundly… just depressing about that. They sat in silence for a moment, just letting it sink in. He did always know her, even Castle best out of the precinct. But… wow.

"What did you guys do with the money?" she asked softly.

"We gave who handed in money late in the pool back to them. Me, Ryan and Espo combined our bets and Montgomery's and gave them to Evelyn. She was sweet about it. It seemed right," said Lanie with a sad smile.

"How did the pool start?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"Me, Ryan and Esposito started up a small bet back after the first month of you two working together," said Lanie, ignoring Kate's gaping face. The first month? Seriously? That early? Got to be kidding.

"All the way back then?" she said, "You guys are ridiculous."

"It was clear then too," said Lanie, shrugging, "I mean honestly Kate, you guys way outlasted any of those first bets by a long shot. You guys are so weird you outlasted basically everyone's. I remember Montgomery placed the bet that would've won the week before his… before his death."

"And somehow the whole precinct got in on it?" she said quietly, heart heavy with the new knowledge about Montgomery, "Why am I not surprised?"

"That was the boys' doing," said Lanie, throwing her hands up in surrender, "That was not me."

"Sure," she said with a grin, taking a gulp from her sangria again and swallowing the chunk of fruit she'd gotten in the gulp down with it. They chatted the next hour or so away, talking about the fresh intern in the morgue, the case, the new detective who had just come over from vice who had an awful sense of style, casual stuff like that.

"You know I should get going," said Lanie, stretching and standing up, "I've got an early date with some corpses tomorrow."

"And I've got a date with the murder board," she sighed, "Tonight was fun."

"Agreed," said Lanie with a smile, "You sure that date isn't with a one Richard Castle?"

"Positive," she said, pursing her lips.

"Whatever you say, Kate," said Lanie, "See you tomorrow. Night."

"Bye Lanie," she said, "Night."

.

She fell onto her couch, having since changed out of her work clothes and into Rick's shirt (what?) and a fresh pair of sweats. Phone in hand she breathed into the smell of him that clung to the shirt and scrolled to his name in her contacts. It only rang twice before he answered.

"Castle," he said.

"Hey," she said with a smile, grabbing a pillow and pulling it against her stomach, "It's me."

"Hey," he said, voice brightening, "How was your day back at the precinct?"

"Good," she said, feeling like a gawky teenager talking to her crush. What was it about him that made her feel like that sometimes? She bit her lip and continued, "Though the case is a bunch of dead ends right now."

"Really?" he asked, "I'm sorry. What happened?"

"Well the literature critic Allegra Sterling from the Ledger was found shot in the park," she said.

"Sterling? Name rings a bell… ah wait, the new up and comer who hates everything?" he said, "Think one of my writer buddies brought her up lately."

"That would be the one," she said, "Recently beat out a Shawn Kallister for a promotion but he's not our guy. Has a rock solid alibi. Boys are looking into any authors she might've despised recently that had the opportunity to kill her."

"Why would a writer kill someone?" he said.

"The same as why everyone else does," she said, "And we have more reason to suspect an author than just her profession. Someone wrote in Sterling's blood on her forehead 'Literature Bitch'."

"Whew," he said, "You'd think if it was a writer they'd use better words."

"Yeah, whew. And not necessarily," she said, "Still have to check into it. A writer wouldn't use that word isn't a valid excuse for not looking into something in a courtroom. Boys will have the author list tomorrow morning."

"Does the victim have next of kin? Any love interests?" he asked.

"She grew up with a single mother with a history of alcoholism," she said, wincing as memories of her father rose, "Who could barely send the victim to college, let alone her younger sister. The sister seemed content with her lot though, both seemed anguished by the news. As far as we can tell, by all accounts, our vic didn't have a love interest."

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine… How was your day?"

"Boring," he said, "Missed you. Still miss you, actually. Can you come over tomorrow night for dinner or something? Alexis and Mother will both be out of the house and I'll be lonely…"

"And I guess writing still is not an option," she teased.

"Absolutely not," he said, groaning, "And you are much better than writing. I'll take you over writing any day."

"All right I'll drop by," she said, chuckling at the half-whispered yes! at the other end of the phone, "I can't promise that it'll be at a decent hour, but I can try."

"Don't care," he said.

"Oh, what did the doctor say?" she asked, finally remembering that he'd had a check up today.

"Said I can leave the house now and that I can be back at the precinct with you in two days. Thank god," he said, "But I'm not allowed to go running down dark alleyways chasing after guys with knives for a while."

"Joy," she said, "Back to having an obnoxious shadow? I was enjoying the reprieve."

"Don't be mean," he chastised, "You miss me too."

"Maybe just a tiny bit," she said, "Definitely not a significant amount."

"You're mean," he whined, "But… call me? Before you come over, I mean."

"Okay," she said, placing the pillow back onto her couch, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too," she said, the words feeling alien and warm on her tongue.

"You gonna hang up first?" he asked after a moment's silence.

"You hang up first."

"Nuh uh, you."

"Castle, we're acting like your daughter or teenagers or something," she said, laughing, "Just hang up already. We're being ridiculously cute."

"What, you don't like ridiculously cute?"

"Just hang up, Rick."

"Fine. Until tomorrow, Kate."

"Night, see you tomorrow."

He hung up and she plugged her phone into the charger. Oh god, they were going to be one of those ridiculously, sickeningly cute couples weren't they? Would they be worse than Ryan and Jenny? They would be. They so would. But she would have better style when it came to choosing ties. Much, much better style. Though forcing him into wearing a hideous tie someday might be amusing to watch, though he'd probably get back at her with something worse.

She walked into her bedroom, turning the room's lights off as she went inside and shutting the door. Maneuvering to her bed wasn't difficult in the pitch blackness, and her bedside table lamp was on anyway. Falling onto her bed and crawling under the blankets, she sat there in the dark for a moment and just thought. What a day.

She inhaled the Castle-scented air that still surrounded the shirt, and almost missed the writer's presence at her side. It had been nice, sleeping in bed with him. The actual sleeping part. Not that the other sleeping together was bad, but what followed yesterday, the cuddling, the whispered promises, the falling asleep together, that was relaxing and familiar. The familiarity of it all was interesting. It wasn't like she'd fallen asleep with him before, but the feel of it was familiar. She supposed she'd blacked out on top of him in a freezer, but that really was just not the same thing.

She sighed, the shirt would have to do for tonight. The actual writer would have to wait until tomorrow. God, she was pathetic. But wasn't everyone in love pathetic most of the time for the other if the love was real? So she was just in love, not pathetic. Pathetically in love? She sighed, curling deeper under the pillows. Tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

Blargh, so mad at my traitorous body and my computer right now! I had this done on Sunday (after being sick for half of last week) and then my computer decided to blow up. I finally recovered the file, but guys I'm so sorry for the wait. This one's a little on the short side, but I'll make it up to all of you wonderful readers!

Disclaimer: Don't own the insane perfection that is Castle and never will.

* * *

><p>It was tomorrow.<p>

She shot a look at the clock hanging on the wall. Well crap. She really should get going. It wasn't like anything was really happening at the moment, chances were she wouldn't miss anything in the case. She'd just finished going over the footage she'd been staring at. Absolutely nothing had been achieved from that. Plus the white board was nothing but a bunch of infuriating dead ends and things that had to wait until the morning to get. Nothing made any sense right now case-wise. Her own-life-wise? Things were finally starting to make a whole lot of glorious, glorious sense again.

"What, you deserting me too?" complained Esposito from behind her as she pulled her coat on. She pursed her lips at him. Ryan had left two hours or so ago to go to dinner with Jenny and his in-laws, leaving the two of them to pore over the remainder of the lobby footage they'd had to dig in to verify an alibi or two. Now Esposito would be left to do it alone.

"Not my fault you're so easily distracted and paused your footage every five seconds, and unlike you I actually have plans for tonight," she said shrugging. She turned off her computer monitor and shifted the file she'd been looking at back into a desk drawer, "You can probably head out too if you're too lonely Esposito. Doubt you'll find anything in that thing."

"Nah," he said, "Better I do it now than in the morning, and this is a lot better than the nothing I have waiting at home. You going on a date with Castle?"

"None of your business," she said, "And oh no, poor Esposito with no life."

"Look who's talking here miss previously-a-total-workaholic," he said as she walked away, "Your fun night used to be being at it with the murder board for a one night stand!"

"Night Esposito," she called, rolling her eyes.

"Goodbye Mrs. Cas-"

"Goodbye five-year-old."

She smiled as she got into the elevator, pulling out her phone from her pocket. One missed call. No prizes for guessing who that was from. Flipping through her contacts she pulled up his name, calling him. It hardly rang at all before he answered.

"Castle," he said.

"Hey it's me," she said with a lovestruck smile, ignoring the quizzical look the night guard shot her as she passed, "Just heading out of the precinct now. Should be at the loft soon."

"Great," he said, "A feast awaits you."

"You weren't cooking with your injured arm, were you?" she sighed, getting into her cruiser and turning the keys in the ignition.

"Maybe," he said.

She sighed, "Did you manage at least to not burn down the house or your other arm? Wouldn't want you in the hospital again."

"I'm totally fine and so is the house," he huffed, "I'm not that clumsy with one arm. You know that from personal experience."

"You knocked over at least five pictures trying to grab a book yesterday because you forgot your bad arm was there."

"That was an exception. Plus I just got my arm out of the sling so it's a lot easier for me now. Still all bandaged up but the doctor said the stabbing didn't break any bones and the muscle just needs to heal now."

"Whatever you say," she said incredulously, "You still shouldn't be cooking."

"Alexis helped," he said, "She did the more two-hands-needed stuff before she had to run out to meet Lanie."

She turned her phone on speaker, setting it on her dashboard and pulling out of her parking spot.

"What did you make that managed to be so accident-free?" she asked.

"It's a surprise," he said, "And why do you sound so far away all of a sudden?"

"Phone's on speaker," she said, "I'm driving. Can't hold the phone up to my ear while driving now can I?"

"You're driving?" he said, surprised, "Tsk tsk Detective, on your phone while driving."

"Like you've never done it before," she said.

"When I'm actually allowed to drive maybe," he said, "But oh wait, I forgot, you never let me drive."

"For a good reason," she said.

"Hey I can drive just fine!" he said.

"Sure," she said, "For an old man."

"Mean," he huffed, "And I am not an old man, we've been through this."

"Fine, if you're so young then Kitten is much more fitting," she said, smiling as he groaned over the phone.

"We've been over 'Kitten' too," he said, "Can we just stick to my own name for right now?"

"Mmm… I don't know Ricky," she teased, "I think I like the names."

"In that case you need one too," he said, "Nikki?"

"That isn't a nickname," she scoffed, "That's an alter ego slash stripper name created by your ridiculously overactive imagination."

"Fine," he huffed, "Though it is not a stripper name. How about just… Detective?"

His voice lowered significantly on the word and it was enough to make electricity jolt straight through her body. How the hell… how did he manage to make the word Detective hot? No, no, no, he would not win this.

"You like that one don't you?" he said giddily, "Detective."

"Lazy choice there Richard," she said, "Using my title as a nickname? Lazy."

"You're the one using versions of my actual name," he said, "Katherine."

"Writer."

"Officer."

"Alexander."

"Vera."

"Vera?"

"Vera? No, I didn't say Vera."

"You were so imagining me as the gangster's moll in that 1940's case, weren't you?" she accused, rolling her eyes.

"Possibly," he said, "But now that we're done with the nickname war… how's your case with the literature critic?"

"Well the case is nowhere," she sighed ,"We got the list of pissed off writers this morning and trust me, that was no short list. We found our one big lead there. Lily Ellander, a new up-and-comer who had just gotten brutally smashed in a review and went to our vic's office the next day to complain. Her and the vic got into a huge argument the day before the murder took place according to some of Allegra's coworkers. She also lives right by our crime scene."

"Sounds like she's the killer," he said.

"Yeah, except she alibied out," she sighed.

"Seriously?" he said, "Really sounds like she did it. Alibi solid?"

"As solid as they get," she sighed, "Camera footage of a casino has her at a poker table all night, and at least a dozen people can attest to that."

"Why can so many remember?" he asked.

"They weren't playing for money," she said, "And she was losing pretty badly."

"What… oh," he said, realization coming across his voice, "Oh."

"Yeah," she said, "Lily claimed she was drunk when she was playing."

"Maybe it was a body double at the casino," he said, "And the real Lily went to the park and killed Allegra."

"A body double?" she said skeptically, "At a casino?"

"That theory was right in the Odette Morton case," he pointed out.

"Who would this supposed body double be exactly?" she said, eying the road. She should be at his loft soon.

"An evil twin?" he suggested, "Or a woman sent by the CIA to cover for her to allow her to assassinate Allegra."

"Oh yes, because that is the only obviously logical answer here," she scoffed, "CIA assassination of a literature critic, with a body double sent to play strip poker and lose horribly. Because the CIA would clearly want a twenty-something critic dead. Total sense."

"Not my best theory," he said, "But you never know it might be right. How far away are you?"

"Pulling up now. Just gotta find parking," she said, looking around for a parking spot. One of the worst parts of driving in the city? Parking. Aha! There. She squeezed into the spot, stepping out and turning speaker off on her phone.

"Got to tell you something when you get up here," he said, sounding a little unsettled.

"Okay... I'm heading up, see you in a minute," she said, "Bye."  
>"Bye."<p>

She hung up, putting her phone away. After dodging a few wild children and two rambunctious puppies, she walked in and nodded at the doorman.

"Good evening Miss Beckett," he said with a smile, "Come to see Mister Castle?"

"You know it," she said. The building staff all knew her at this point; she'd been to the loft plenty. She hopped into the stereotypical gilded elevator, glancing at her reflection in the mirror inside. Admittedly she was a little concerned with her looks for the dinner. God, how hopelessly shallow and lovestruck was she? It was just dinner with her partner, not the end of the world. Regardless she still smoothed out pieces of wayward hair, still adjusted her crimefighting-battered blouse, still wound her fingers around her mother's ring. She shook her head. Ridiculous. Wonder what he had to tell her.

The elevator dinged, announcing its arrival at Rick's floor. She got out, wandering down the familiar hallway and stopping at his-

His arm was suddenly around her waist and she yelped, only for it to be swallowed by him as he dragged her into a hot kiss. Her hands found their usual spot on his chest, hooking into the dark blue shirt he was wearing. His tongue ran along her bottom lip and she opened to him, tongues falling into a strangely familiar battle for dominance. His arm unwrapped from around her and wandered underneath the hem of her shirt, brushing against the bare skin right above her jeans…

"Oh my goodness gracious," said a voice from behind them, and they broke apart quickly to see an old lady standing and staring at them, cane in hand, "Kids these days… can't you at least get inside his apartment sweetheart before you start eating each other's faces off?"

"Sorry," they both muttered, rushing inside his door, shutting it quickly. Oh god, what was it with their luck sometimes? She glanced over at him.

"I'm never going to be able to look at that lady with a straight face again," he sighed.

"Not my fault that's your idea of a hello," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"You like that, Detective?" he said, voice low again, "Plenty more where that came from if you want it now."

She pressed her lips together, ends of her mouth curling up into a small smile.

"You promised food," she said, arms crossing, "Feed me."

He pouted, "Oh come on Katherine…"

"Feed me, Writer Boy," she huffed.

"Fine, grumpy," he said, helping her out of her coat. A delicious smell wafted towards them and she turned to face him.

"Guessing that's your 'feast'?" she said.

"Yup," he said, "And as you can see the loft and I are both still in one piece and not burnt to the ground."

She rolled her eyes before walking towards the dining room, laughing a bit at the spread. No wonder he hadn't burnt anything.

"Wow Castle," she said, "Really a show of your cooking prowess right here. Truly an exemplary show of cooking ability."

"Says the queen of the Styrofoam kingdom," he said with a smile, "And you know I can cook when I have two arms."

"So can I," she said, "Though only when I have time."

He had laid out what looked like Zabars-made heated up deliciousness. The very talented chef came up beside her, a grin on his face.

"Best I could manage with one arm," he said with a shrug, "Don't tell me you've never pulled this sort of thing before."

She rolled her eyes, "Can we just eat now? I'm starving."

"Note to self," he muttered as he passed her, "Demanding when hungry."

She glared at the back of his head before joining him at the large table. They ate, exchanging random bits of small talk, crazy theories about the case, and general lovey-dovey stuff before curling up on his sofa with what must've been her fifth or so glass of wine. She was curled against his sinfully comfortable side, head nestled against his chest. Would've been just fine with falling asleep there but something still nagged her in the back of her mind.

"You said before you wanted to tell me something," she said, blinking up at him, "On the phone. You sounded pretty upset… wanna tell me?"

"Oh it was… it was nothing," he said, fingers running along her arm in a pattern that always lulled her straight off to sleep in a matter of minutes. How he'd figured that out in mere days when it'd taken months for other guys to was beyond her. But no. She was going to figure this out and nothing was going to distract her from that.

"Didn't sound like nothing," she said, pulling away from him, "Come on, I'm sure it isn't nearly as life shattering as you think it is."

He winced, "Well…"

"As long as you aren't dying Rick," she said softly, "It'll be okay. We've gotten through worse."

"I'm not dying or sick or anything," he said, taking a deep breath. Huh. He seemed pretty uneasy, weird. What was going on?

"Well then just tell me," she said, shrugging, "Can't be that big of a deal."

"Okay," he said after a long pause, "Okay. But just… just let me explain before you jump to any conclusions, okay?"

"Okay…?" she said as he got up, offering his hand to her. She took it, "Where are we going?"

"I have something to show you," he said, something in his voice ringing with defeat. What was going on? Was someone dead? Did something happen to his family? Was it the books? Was something taking him away from the city like what had happened with Will? Was it about his dad? He was leading her into his office.

Flipping the lights on he shut the door behind her. She stood in front of it, arms crossed as he strode past her.

"What is it, Castle?" she said, brow furrowing. He was standing next to his fake murder board, looking nervous.

"Just… try to remember what you said about letting me explain first, okay?" he said anxiously. What, was he still worried about her memories? She nodded her head slowly. He sighed loudly, shutting his eyes and turning the dark screen on.

What…

She stumbled backwards, arms catching her body on the desk right before she went crashing down onto the chair she'd so loved before. What… How… no… Faces, so many faces swam in front of her eyes, faces from the one monster that lurked behind every door of her life. And in frigid white a question stood that chilled her to the bone.

Who hired the sniper.

Who hired her attempted assassin.

Who is the Dragon.

Her breaths grew labored as she stared at the board, eyes darting from face to face, from bullet point to bullet point. She wanted to run. She wanted to escape. She wanted to get away from those faces, those names… the… the everything. His eyes were defeated when she finally forced her eyes to meet his.

"What the hell is this," she forced out, voice broken, "What the hell is this, Rick?"

"I can explain, Kate," he said, bathed in the glow of the… the monstrosity before her eyes, "Let me, please. Remember your promise…" he pleaded.

She'd promised she'd let him explain.

But god, how badly she wanted to just slap him or run away or… do anything but stand there and listen to him talk about this poison.

But she had promised. And she didn't want to break any more of those. Through burning eyes, barely restrained panic and shaking breaths she nodded, barely moving her rigid head.

"A man called, a day or two after you returned to the force last fall," he said slowly, eyes devoid of anything, "He was a friend of Montgomery's. He has files, files that could seriously hurt whoever the dragon is in charge of this mess, and as long as he has those… you're safe. But there was a catch to this deal with the devil. You couldn't dig into the case, or else there would be nothing stopping them from killing you. I… Kate… I can't, I can never let that happen. Never…"

She listened numbly as his explanation rambled on, as he explained his sudden epiphany during the Wheldon case, why he had to go through those painful moments to talk her out of the case that autumn day why… why so much that she had just taken as Castle randomness had occurred. At the end of it all his shoulders were hunched, face drawn.

"And I… Kate, I can't lose you," he blurted, "I just did it all… I did it all because I love you, always have and always will. Losing you would break me. I would fall into the blue without any hope of coming out again. I can't let them take you, not ever."

Her eyes burned, though with love or tears she couldn't say for sure. There was no real word for what she was feeling at the moment except maybe total confusion. Caught between rage that he had gone behind her back like this, that he'd lie to her, endanger his life for her, for this damn case, and adoration for protecting her, for trying to find her that closure. She wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. Yell at him? Sob hysterically? Tell him to stop? Confused was an understatement right now.

So she did the only thing that seemed logical.

She bolted.

"Kate!" she heard him yell from behind her, but she was blind, blind to all of it. Retreated into the little bubble of furious relentless flight that had consumed her for years back when she was down the rabbit hole, blind to all else. She vaguely realized she didn't have shoes on and changed her trajectory from the front door to his hallway bathroom. Rushing inside she slammed the door behind her, locking it. Oh god. Oh my god. That idiot. That bloody… who did he think he was? Going off and risking his life, his daughter's life for something that wasn't his fight.

The hell it wasn't his fight. They were in this together.

He did it to protect her. They were partners.

That's what partners were for.

He did it all for her.

She slid down to the ground against the bathroom door, sobs breaking out of her mouth and into the air. All for her. He could've gotten himself and his family killed. He did it to give her the closure that always eluded her. He'd lied to her face several times regarding it, hell at least twice in the last two days at least. He wanted to set them free. He'd betrayed her.

"Kate!" she heard him yell again, pounding on the door and shaking the only thing holding her up, "Please, open up."

She recoiled at the noise, shrinking away from the reverberating door. Castle… what have you done?

Mind in turmoil and body wracked with uncontrollable sobs she shakily got up, moving towards the pretty white sink. After splashing a bit of cool water onto her face to wake her up and wash away the tears she peeked at herself in the mirror. Mess. Horrible, horrible mess. Last time she'd looked like this would've had to have been one of those nights when Royce had had to force her into eating and sleeping after a week of not doing either. Pull yourself together Kate. It's just your partner trying to save your life by endangering his in the killer conspiracy that took down your mentor and your mother.

That sent another wave of sobs to ricochet throughout her body. At least Rick had stopped trying to get in. He'd stopped trying to get in. Oh god. Stopped trying to get in.

Pathetic. Pull yourself together.

The sobs came regardless, though without the salty trail of tears. She'd cried herself out. Just horrible, horrible heaves and choking gasps for air came over her. God, he could've been killed. If they found out he'd be dead. Dead. Another grave to visit, another day to dread, another body at the morgue with a case run cold. But that's what he had been trying to stop her from becoming too.

That must've been what Alexis wanted to say back at the hospital when she stopped herself from saying that there were other reasons for Castle's staying at the precinct. He was stopping her from digging, from going back down the rabbit hole and getting killed by the rabbit.

The betrayal, the lies, the deceit, the endangerment… all to save _her_ life.

The sobs subsided, replaced with some sort of cold dread overlaid with a hopeless amount of love. He'd put his life and his family's life on the line for her. Idiot. Total idiot. But they both were.

She drew a deep breath, steadying herself. Talk. They had to talk about this. No more hiding, no more shying away from talking, from the difficult things in their whirlwind lives. Talking was good. She checked herself in the mirror quickly, some piece of that appearance-wary girl still in her, and opened the door.

She stepped out… and promptly fell over him. She managed to catch herself before she hit the floor but an overwhelming dizziness likely brought on by the alcohol and emotional wreckage set in. The floor and ceiling reversed and her head roared, and everything went to black.

_They were sitting at a diner, one of those homey places with the sassy waitress, the impatient chef, and the fifty regulars whose orders the diner has memorized by heart. The waitress walks up to them, placing two coffees down._

_ "The skim vanilla latté would be yours, right miss?" says the waitress, smiling._

_ "Yes that's right, thank you," says Kate, taking it and sipping a bit of it. The waitress disappears out of sight soon after. Guess she has other places to be._

_ "This your idea of a good morning, Castle?" she says with a half smile, "Breakfast and coffee at the local diner?"_

_ "What do you not like it?" he says, "We can go somewhere else."_

_ "No, no this is great," she says, "Actually meet my dad at a place like this all the time… a childhood favorite."_

_ "Glad to know I was right," he says with a grin, "I'll make sure to keep it in mind. To us?" he raises his coffee mug. She gives him a small look before raising hers as well._

_ "To us," she says, clinking it against his excessively sweet concoction that tasted more like sugar than coffee. They both take big gulps and smile. This had been his idea of a fantastic morning after, heading out to a nearby diner for breakfast. She would've cooked except he'd gone and conveniently "broken" the kitchen. That one was a long story._

_ The food arrives at some point in the middle of them arguing over the authenticity of some part he wanted to put in Nikki Heat, and they eventually notice it. They eat quietly, managing to still bicker even whilst eating._

_ "I still say," he says, "That it's perfectly plausible. Why shouldn't they be able to do it in the break room Kat-"_

_ A crash of glass._

_ People screaming. _

_ Blood. Blood everywhere._

_ She stands up with a start, cop instincts kicking in and getting everyone down, glancing at the window._

_ Bullet hole._

_ She looks around frantically for who'd been hit and… no… No. No, this couldn't have happened…_

_ Castle lies sprawled on the bench, eyes glazed in shock, blood seeping through the crisp white of his shirt, blood everywhere. His chest moves sporadically. A woman calls an ambulance frantically in the background._

_ She throws herself down next to his body, pumping his heart. No… no. No. No. No._

_ "Please Rick, don't you leave me," she says, tears falling down her face as his tearing eyes met hers, "Please. No. I can't lose you, you said always, you said always. Always means forever. I love you, you can't… not so soon after we've finally… no, Rick. No. Don't you die on me. You can't."_

_ He smiles at her, trying to choke out words through the pain but it wasn't working._

_ "No, no, sh," she says, a tear falling onto his face, "Don't try to talk. We've got an ambulance on the way. They'll fix you up. You'll be okay. You can't die on me. You can't. I love you. I love you, Rick…"_

_ He gives her one last worldshattering smile, and then his eyes flutter shut._

_ Her crying escalates into full on hysterics, not caring about the blood on her hands, the terrified patrons._

_ "How close is the ambulance?" she said, voice coming out as a sound not her own, a ragged and hysterical sound that if she hadn't known had come out of her mouth she would've denied she'd made it at all. _

_ "Five minutes away," says the woman who'd been on the phone, "It should be here soon."  
>It's not soon enough.<em>

_ It's not soon enough._

_ A minute later the last of his lifeblood leaves him._

_ His heart bravely beats one more time. _

_ His body grows cold._

_ His blood slows._

_ Her body doesn't stop shaking. She weeps, pleading, begging, sobbing, over his lifeless body cradled in her arms. _

_ No._

_ No this can't have happened._

_ The team shows up. _

_ Lanie tries to force her away._

_ Away? Why would she go away? She was supposed to be with Rick. Forever and always. He was still alive. He wasn't dead. He couldn't be._

_ That breaks into sheer anger, she pushes against Lanie's hands, Esposito and Ryan eventually have to strongarm her back to her loft. She's kicking and screaming and crying the whole way. They're heartbroken. They all are. She didn't know what she was. She was nothing._

_ The sniper is never caught._

_ Alexis is shattered._

_ His mother is shattered._

_ She is beyond._

_ Alone in her cold, empty apartment, left to suffer through his death… his death! Alone in the shadows. Alone in the dark world. Void of life. Void of heart. Void of determination, of ambition, of goals. Alone._

_ Alone._

_A clock on her bedside table starts to chime._

_ Cuckoo. _

_ When did she get a cuckoo clock?_

_ Cuckoo._

_ "Kate!"_

_ Well that thing must be broken._

_ "Kate! Wake up!"_

_Hell of a clock this was._

"Kate!" he yelled, shaking her out of her misery. She blinked her eyes open wearily, a room slowly swimming into view. What… oh, Castle loft? Must've had a nightmare. That was just a dream. Castle was totally alive, he was right there. Damn nightmares, just when she'd thought she'd really gotten a hold on them too they crept back on her. That nightmare happened a lot, she was surprised she didn't recognize it. Usually she woke up before the cuckoo clock showed up, though. From the looks of things she was lying down on his sofa under some soft blanket. Well, that was odd. Why wasn't she in the bed? Guess she'd just fallen asleep after a movie or… oh no.

What had happened earlier came back into her mind all too soon. What had happened? Why was she here? What…

His face hovered over her, etched with concern. He seemed somewhat scared… no, nervous? as he knelt down beside her.

"You fainted after you tripped over me," he said, "Sorry about that… Did you have a bad nightmare?"

She nodded slowly, trying to force the images of him bloody and dead out of her mind, "Really, really bad."

"Is it my fault?" he asked, "Is it cause… cause of what I said? Cause of… you know?"

"I don't know," she sighed, "I honestly just… I don't know. It may have triggered it but they happen a lot."

"You kept screaming no, over and over," he said, tentatively running a hand up to brush a strand of hair off her face, "And my name."

"I was?" she said hoarsely, bringing a hand to her buzzing forehead, "Guess I was. Don't… don't usually do that."

"Do nightmares happen a lot for you?" he asked, all concern and no fear.

"Depends on what you mean by a lot," she said with a sigh, "They're worse on days involving my Mom and whenever the conspiracy come up."

"I'm sorry," he breathed, "Bet I triggered it. What… what happened in it?"

She paused and he hastily interjects, "You don't have to tell me."

"No," she said with a shake of her head, "You… you should know. We were in a diner, just talking and having fun. Then a sniper shoots from outside the café. The window next to us shatters and I kick into full on cop mode. I look around for the victim and…"

Her voice catches as the image of his dead body swarm over her, mingling with the visions of Montgomery's, Raglan's, Coonan's, McCallister's, her mom's… He reached towards her but she held a hand up.

"The victim is you, Rick," she breathed, "Always you… sometimes it's all of you guys, the boys, Lanie, your family, my dad… and I'm left alone… then everybody really is gone."

His arms are suddenly around her, including his bad one, and he envelops her into a tight hug. She shuts her eyes, just letting herself be in the moment, the warmth of his body against hers, the way his arms can just completely encompass her small frame… He's alive. He's alive. The two words repeat over and over in her mind, a mantra.

"God… I… Kate," he said, a hand circling on her back, "That will never happen as long as I can stop it. Never leaving you. And you said it's almost always me? Do you have this dream a lot?"

She nods against him, not having the strength for a voice right now.

"Kate," he whispered, voice like a plea, "Call me. Next time this happens and you're alone. I don't care if it's the middle of the night or the middle of the day, call me."

She nods again, drawing a shaky breath, "I don't usually have ones as… physically intense as that one. Did you drug the wine or something?"

"Didn't drug the wine," he said with a small smile, "Let… let me get you something to drink. Not alcohol, think you're done with that."

He pulled away. She found herself missing the contact already, the comforting warmth and just sheer comfort of being near him. She sank against the pillows, pressing a hand against her clammy forehead. She'd fainted. Did the fall do it? Emotional exhaustion coupled with alcohol? She had been pretty dang drunk.

A glass of water appeared from above and she looked up at him. She nodded in thanks and took a small sip of it, revitalizing her parched throat. They sat in silence.

"Why?" she said, not harsh or bitter, but somewhere between hurt and love, "Why?"

"For you," he said softly, "All, all for you. You deserve the closure. You deserve to live."

"You do too though, Rick," she said, "You could get yourself killed chasing this thing."

"I'm careful," he began, but she shakes her head.

"No," she said, "People involved in this case die, Rick. You told me so yourself. Think about your mother. Think about Alexis. Damn it Rick your own daughter? If something happened to you, if it happened because of me and this stupid conspiracy…"

"What about you, Kate?" he said.

"Of course I don't want anything to happen to you," she said, "I'm your partner, I love you more than anything. That's exactly why you need to stop this. All of this."

"But…"

"No," she said firmly, "No more."

"But Kate…"

Hauling him down to her into a soft kiss to shut him up proved just as effective as it had been when he'd pulled it on her in the hospital.

"No more, Rick," she breathed, pulling away and looking at him with determined eyes.

"Promise me you won't dig," he said after considering her a moment.

"I can't promise you forever with that," she said, his face falling, "But I won't… for now. Promise me there aren't any more lies. Mean it."

"There aren't," he said, "There aren't."

Her tired eyes bore into his, unable to find any trace of dishonesty. She sighed.

"Take me to bed, Rick."


End file.
